


Beacon Hills House of Night

by K_E_D



Category: House of Night - P. C. Cast & Kristin Cast, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - House of Night, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bullying, Dark, Derek & Allison friendship, F/F, F/M, Familiars, Flashbacks, M/M, Magic, Mates, Mental Breakdown, Nightmares, POV Multiple, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Slow Build, anger issues, close friendships, high school classes, mentioned Erebus, mentioned Kalona, mentioned Neferet, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:28:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 62,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_E_D/pseuds/K_E_D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a rumor spreads about another High Priestess going dark-side, the Sons of Erebus Warriors descend on Beacon Hills.  As they observe and strategize, the Goddess Nyx is Marking new fledglings left and right and gifting them with miraculous abilities.  The question on everyone's mind - is this random or is it preparation for war?</p><p>Chapter 1 Summary:</p><p>After years of training as a Son of Erebus Warrior, Derek Hale has been transferred to his old House of Night - the one place he never wanted to return to.  As he faces old enemies - not to mention past lovers - he finds that maybe he hasn't buried those long forgotten traumas as deep as he'd thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome Home, Warrior Hale

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Meet, Readers!
> 
> So, this story is basically me throwing the Teen Wolf gang into the House of Night world. As with all of my stories, this is going to be fairly long. There aren't many characters from the HoN universe (though there are a few and several are mentioned), but as you can tell by the tags, just about every Teen Wolf character will make an appearance in this story.
> 
> The timeline begins around the start of Awakened (House of Night #8).
> 
> For past and one-sided relationships that will be in this chapter, please refer to the end notes.
> 
> Any and all comments are welcome. Enjoy!

**Derek**

 

Sweat beads along his temples and rolls smoothly down his face as he delivers hit after hit.  His opponent is much larger than him, so he knows speed is the key – dodge, deflect, attack.

 

Repeat until they’re down.

 

The mammoth of a man suddenly goes on the defensive, leaving an opening for Derek to continue his attack.  But should he keep attacking or back off?  After all these years, he knows that if this were a real fight he’d have to keep attacking – otherwise his opponent _will_ kill him. Hell, this man now would beat him to within an inch of his life if he let him.  Derek advances on his rival, only for the man to back away.  He glances up at his face, but quickly corrects himself.

 

_Never watch their face Derek – watch their body.  Their hands, knees, and feet do the most damage, not their face._

 

Focusing back on the man’s body language, he realizes that the guy is just playing him.  He’s not even winded or tired – or at least, he’s hiding it well.  They’ve been going at it for four hours and neither has dropped.

 

Derek fakes a left, a right, and then drops with a sweep of his leg, catching the other off guard.  His opponent loses his footing, but at the last minute stretches an arm out and takes Derek down with him.  His muscled arm felt like a steel beam plowing Derek to the ground.  He didn’t wait to catch his breath, simply rolling with the attack and bouncing back to his feet – only to find his rival up as well.

 

They circle each other – left, right, forward, back – waiting for someone to strike.

 

_Never make the first move if you’re the smaller opponent.  That’s a good way to end up in a headlock with your neck snapped._

Derek waits and waits, but the other man is patient as well.  In a blur of motion he’s dodging a fist, then a kick, and what would have been a well-placed knee to the groin.  He’s thinking of how to deflect and then make his move when the man – faster than Derek thought possible – twisted from his knelt position, sweeping his arm around in a tight lock.

 

Apparently even when _not_ attacking first, there’s a chance of being in a headlock.  Derek tries to think of a way out, panting and grunting, as he futilely tries to pry the arm away.

 

“You see, Derek,” Kincaid begins.  “Your problem is you think too much.  You should focus more on your instincts and less on what to do at the right mom-”

 

He’s cut off when Derek jabs an elbow in his kidney and hooks his other around the back of Kincaid’s right knee.  With a swift jerk upward, the guy is lifted off the ground.  The momentary surprise let’s Derek pry the arm from around his neck, pulling it towards him until Kincaid is facing away towards the ground.  With a hard grunt the man lands on his front, a cloud of dust and sand billowing around them.

 

Derek quickly pushes the ridiculously muscled arm up his back and changes the tight grip on his leg before digging a knee into the man’s back.  Kincaid struggles for a few moments, but eventually calms in defeat, brow furrowed in annoyance.  Leaning down, Derek makes sure they’re breathing has quieted before speaking.

 

“And your problem is you _talk_ too much,” he mutters.  Kincaid grunts in response, not willing to comment.  He slowly releases his hold and backs away.  This one has a tendency to keep fighting long after the fight’s been won, so Derek makes sure to keep his guard up.

 

As predicted, Kincaid swings for an uppercut, which Derek dodges easily.

 

“Enough!”

 

Both vampyres freeze at the commanding voice.  After registering their leader, they both straighten and stand at attention.  It was rare for lower ranking Warriors to actually meet their leader, let alone speak to him in person.  Derek’s heart hammers, but he’s reassured by the fact that Ate’s appearance is probably for Kincaid – the Leader of the Sons of Erebus at the Saudi Arabian House of Night.  This House had been his home for the past three years as he trained under some of the best Warriors there were.  He’d heard of the chaos that’s been happening back home in the States, but he honestly couldn’t care less.  America was where everything bad in his life happened – well, minus the part about being Marked.  He may have resented – completely _hated_ – the idea of traveling so far from his original home at first, but it ended up being the best thing that’d ever happened to him.

 

So yes, he knew of what’s been happening at the Tulsa House of Night (a place he’d never even thought of until it hit the news), but in his mind none of it was his problem.  He wasn’t assigned to protect it, as many of his brothers had been – mostly because he was just beginning his training when that High Priestess Neferet asked for the Sons of Erebus’ help.  When Ate had informed Kincaid (and his trainees) that Erebus had come to Earth, Derek had immediately called bullshit.  There was no way Neferet was Nyx Incarnate either.  It was the most ridiculous shit he’d ever heard, which Kincaid agreed with.  They were stunned that Ate so readily believed this all to be true.

 

Derek had seen pictures of Neferet and the so called “Erebus” on the news.  Could none of his brothers see that he was Kalona?  It wasn’t that hard to find in the history books (well, okay, it actually _was_ pretty hard, but Derek loved history).  Even if they didn’t know the two were brothers, their wings were different colors for fucks sake.  Black versus Gold.

 

Shaking his head to refocus, Derek clasps his hands behind his back and stands still as their Leader approaches.  He’s thankful that Ate had eventually figured it out (even though everyone, including Kalona himself had to spell it out for him).

 

The large vampyre strides forward, two Warriors at his back, and reaches out to clasp forearms with Kincaid.

 

“Merry Meet, Kincaid.”

 

“Merry Meet, Sir.  How can I assist you?” Kincaid inquires.

 

“I am here to inform you that you and Warrior…uh…” Ate trails off, unsure.  He holds out a hand and the warrior to his right slips a piece of paper into it.  “Ah yes.  I am here to inform you that you and Warrior Hale are being transferred.”  Derek’s head snaps up just as Kincaid arches a brow at him.  “I assume this is Hale?” Ate asks.

 

When Derek is too shocked to respond, Kincaid clears his throat obnoxiously.

 

“Yes, sir, I’m Derek Hale,” he answers, clasping forearms with his Leader.  He was being transferred?  Where?  Why?  Damnit, Ate was supposed to be here only for Kincaid.  Derek didn’t dislike being in the spotlight, but he definitely disliked the word ‘transfer’ and everything that went along with it.

 

“Blessed be, young warrior,” Ate says.  They release their grips and Ate turns his attention back to Kincaid, who’s restless and waiting for orders.

 

“Transferred, sir?”

 

“Yes, to the States.  One of our Warriors has requested back-up.  He fears that his High Priestess is beginning to stray from Nyx’s path and wants to have more Warriors around him as a precaution.”

 

“Don’t tell me it’s another Neferet,” Kincaid says with a sigh.

 

“No, or at least not yet.  Given how strong and…dark, for lack of a better term, Neferet has become, I agree with this decision.  If we have to protect our people even from our own kind, then so be it,” Ate replies grimly.

 

“Understood, sir,” Kincaid says with a respectful nod.  Derek is inwardly cringing at this news.  Returning to America was the last thing he wanted to do right now.  It was good here, in the middle of the desert, under billions of stars – no distractions, no vampyres except his brothers, nothing to have to survive.  But he supposes this is what he’s trained for – to protect those in need.  “Ate, may I ask who the brother Warrior is and where we will be stationed?”

 

“Everything you need to know about our brother and his House of Night will be provided to you on the plane,” he responds.  “Until you return, Katashi will be taking leadership of this House of Night once again.”

 

“Old Silverfinger?” Kincaid asks, surprised.  “I thought he retired.”

 

Ate chuckles and says “He learned the hard way that retirement does not exist for a Warrior.”  Derek wonders if the ominous message is true or if he’s being paranoid.  But he’s thinking Silverfinger hadn’t really wanted to return to Saudi Arabia.  Derek remains quiet, not having the rank – or courage for that matter – to question the ethics of the situation.  By Kincaid’s fading amusement he, too, understood the message.

 

“I see,” he mutters.  “We thank you for this opportunity, Ate,” he adds.

 

“You are welcome, Warrior,” Ate replies as they grasp forearms again.  “And I sincerely wish you luck on this journey,” he murmurs as he turns.  Derek and Kincaid glance at each other, brows furrowed.  Nothing about this sounded good.

 

“Well hell, Hale,” Kincaid grumbles.  Derek frowns as the man claps him on the shoulder.  “Hope you ain’t afraid to fly,” he adds with a chuckle.  The frown turns into a full scowl as Kincaid walks away into the barracks.  Of course he wasn’t afraid to fly.  How else did he get here?  Besides, that wasn’t the problem.  The _problem_ was returning to America – the land of death, misery, and pain (at least for Derek).

 

With a heavy sigh he slowly makes his way back to the barracks as well, taking in the sight of the desert for as long as he could.  It was so quiet out here.  There was nothing but a gentle warm breeze shifting the sand grains and the occasional grunt from a camel.  Of course, back inside the walls there were Warriors chatting and roughhousing, but that too was pleasant to his ears.  It’s so loud in America, even in the small town he’d grown up in.

 

The stars completely covered the sky and weren’t polluted by city lights.  Derek had visited the cities here as well and found them to be a bit harsh.  But this, here in the desert, was perfect.  He takes a moment to climb onto a small rock formation that sits next to the biggest cactus he’s ever seen.  Derek had made the mistake of touching it once when he first arrived.  It was embarrassing to say the least – Kincaid laughed at him for a full 10 minutes.

 

As he rests on the rock, he can’t help but wonder where this journey will take him.  He hasn’t dealt with a High Priestess – or any female vampyres for that matter – at all in the last three years.  This House of Night was exclusively male, made to train Sons of Erebus Warriors.  He liked it much better this way.  Women were just…complicated.  He realizes that he follows the path of a Goddess, but he’s never thought of Nyx as just a simple woman.  She was everything good in the world in his mind.  Nyx was in the stars that gaze down at him, the wind that blew through his hair, even the sand beneath his feet.  He felt close to her out here, but not in the States – not in California.  Back then, he couldn’t have felt further from her.  There were multiple times when he had actually thought she’d abandoned him.  It just wasn’t possible for his life to suck that bad if a Goddess were watching over him.  There were many times he begged her to help him, begged her to do something – anything.

 

It wasn’t until he stepped foot on the desert that he believed again.  It was a miraculous event that changed his life.  He – Derek Hale – had actually heard his Goddess’ voice that day.  What she said was simple and lovely – _be happy, my child._   It had been enough for him.  Her sweet voice in his head had been enough for him to pick himself up and make something of his life.

 

He’d give anything to hear her again now.

 

“Meoowwwurggghh.”

 

Derek startles as his familiar jumps down from the top of the cactus and into his lap.  He looks at the cactus and then back at the cat.

 

“I never understand how you get up there,” he mutters.  Derek checks his paws out of habit for any needles from the plant, but as usual he’s completely unharmed.  His large Arabian Mau purr-growls at him and lifts himself up so his front paws are balanced on Derek’s shoulder.  Gently bumping his forehead against the cats, he fails to hold in another sigh.  “Hope you’re ready to travel, Ivan.  We’re going to America,” he says.  “You excited?” he asks glumly.  Ivan growl-yawns at him and paws disgruntledly at his face.  “Yeah, I agree,” he grumbles.

 

Ivan rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, prompting him to stroke his back.  The cat purrs happily, easily pleased.  If only all creatures were that easy.

 

Derek gets to his feet, lifting Ivan in his arms as he goes.  Of course, the cat grunts at him and jumps to the ground, having always hated to be carried.

 

“Suit yourself then,” Derek says, shaking his head.

 

As he finally makes his way into the barracks, a gentle breeze billows around him.

 

_Be strong, my child._

 

Derek’s breath comes to a halt as his heart warms that tiny bit more.

 

* * *

 

 

A few hours later his belongings are all packed and he’s standing outside the Saudi Arabian House of Night with Kincaid as they say farewell to their brothers.  Though Derek doesn’t have many close friends, many of the Warriors give him a hearty goodbye and wish him luck on his journey.  Derek is cordial to all (okay, most) and waves as they board the Sons of Erebus private jet.  Ivan runs ahead of him, jumping all over the place and growling playfully at Kincaid.

 

“Hale, get that thing under control,” the man grumbles.  Derek rolls his eyes, but doesn’t have to “control” his familiar.  With a final growl at Kincaid, Ivan hops into one of the empty seats, curls up, and pretends to sleep.  The only way Derek knows he’s pretending is because his tail is twitching and every now and then he’ll bat at a loose string on the seat.  Derek snorts, shaking his head at him.  He’ll admit that he may be abnormally attached to his familiar, but he doesn’t care.  Ivan has been his best friend for the past three years and nothing will change that.

 

A dinging echoes through the cabin, alerting them to buckle their seatbelts.

 

“Merry meet and blessed be, Warriors,” a male voice says over the intercom.  Derek raises a brow at the formal introduction, seeing as how they’re the only two people on the plane.  “Please fasten your seatbelts as instructed by the overhead lights.  We will now be deporting for California.  Enjoy the 16 hour flight,” the man chuckles and then hangs up.  Derek’s gone completely rigid, his tight grips on the armrests making them creak.  Ivan lifts his head across the alley and stares at him, small worried grunts vibrating through him.  This couldn’t be happening.  No way in hell was he being transferred back to California.  Even if that were true, it couldn’t be the Beacon Hills House of Night.  It _was not_ possible.

 

“You gonna freak out on me, Hale?” Kincaid asks.

 

“Did you know?” he snaps.  Other than to spit the words out, he still hasn’t moved.

 

The man sighs and says, “I suspected.”

 

Derek clenches his jaw, betrayal coursing through him.  After everything, he couldn’t just being going _back_ , just like that.

 

“Look, kid, I suspected because you only recently finished training and Ate – or rather Ennis, I’m guessing – requested you specifically.  That doesn’t happen with newbies, trust me.”  Derek ignored his meaningless words.  It didn’t matter if he knew.  It’s not like Derek could have refused anyway.  A Warrior goes wherever Ate or another Leader commands – no questions asked, no requests for a different assignment, and definitely no refusals.

 

But this was different, it had to be.  It wasn’t really Ennis or Ate that had requested him.  It was _her_.  It had to be.  But why would she do it?  Why transfer him back?

 

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself.  It doesn’t matter because he _hates_ her and that will never change.  Just the thought of her makes him nauseous.  How is he going to be around her 24/7?  How is he going to live at that school again?

 

“Derek, you and I both know you can’t run from your past – not forever.”

 

“I didn’t run,” he snaps.  He takes a steadying breath and admits the truth.  “She sent me away.”

 

“A woman – I figured as much.  Three years training you and you’d think I’d know something about you, but you are one clammed up vampyre that’s for sure.”

 

Derek remains silent, slowly relaxing every muscle as he concentrates on his breathing.

 

“If you’re gonna hurl, I’d prefer you did it in the bathroom,” Kincaid says.  With that, the man sticks in a pair of ear buds and cranks the volume on his iPod up.  Derek has managed to pry his hands from the armrests, instead digging his nails into his palms.

 

Ivan growls lowly and prances over to him, jumping into his lap yet again.  He nudges and licks at Derek’s clenched fists, prompting him to open them so he can be petted.  Derek reluctantly complies, curling his fingers into the soft orange and brown coat, eliciting loud purring from his cat.  Ivan stares up at him sleepily before resting his chin on Derek’s chest.

 

The young warrior follows his familiar’s breathing until they’re both completely relaxed and drifting to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Everyone around me gets hurt.”_

_“I’ve been hurt before.”_

_Derek looks up into her gorgeous dark eyes and not for the first times feels his heart tug at the sadness he sees there.  For such a beautiful and powerful High Priestess, she was awfully lonely.  She hesitantly leans forward and presses her soft lips against his.  He pulls away at first, unsure if he should really go there with her.  Not only does bad luck follow him like a dark cloud, but she’s also his superior.  He’s been down this road once before and look how that turned out._

_“It’s okay, Derek,” she whispers and leans in again.  Mesmerized by her voice and enticed by her gentle touch, he gives in and kisses her back roughly._

Derek jerks in his seat as he pulls himself from the dream. He hasn’t dreamt of her for an entire year and now that he’s going back, it’s happening all over again. At least it was one of the better memories – though to be honest every good memory is tainted with her betrayal. He idly wonders if going back will bring all of his other nightmares roaring back as well. After all, she wasn’t the only bad memory waiting for him in Beacon Hills. He prays to Nyx that only Jennifer will be there. It’s possible he could handle one of them, but not both.

 

Definitely not both.

 

Thinking back on what Ate said about Jennifer, he isn’t surprised.  He knew long ago that she had drifted from Nyx’s path.  She’d told him once – in a rare moment of honesty – that she didn’t believe Nyx was a loving or forgiving Goddess.  Derek had been shocked to hear those words fall from her pretty mouth.  Such a powerful High Priestess should have been close enough to her Goddess to hear her voice if so needed, but not Jenny.  Derek had caught a glimpse of the twisted thing she was underneath all the power and glamor that night.  For months he told himself that she was just going through a hard time – that she was simply stressed.  It wasn’t easy to be a High Priestess after all.

 

Then a few weeks before Jenny cast him out – when he learned of her betrayal – he would never forget the words she said to him.

 

_“If Nyx were truly a loving Goddess, why would she allow such a good fledgling as yourself to be tortured so?  With everything you’ve been through, I find it hard to believe you still trust her.  She is a Goddess.  Could she not have saved you?  Could she not have saved your family?”_

_“…Nyx can’t intervene.  We…we were given free will,” he had stammered._

_Jenny had grown angry, her dark eyes piercing into him.  “Nyx was a fool to give her children free will – myself included.  We do awful, terrible things to one another.  She could break her vow of free will and intervene, but she chooses not to because she’s given up on us.  What makes you think she believes in us any more than we believe in her?  I say she gave up on our kind a long time ago.  She’s simply waiting for us to destroy ourselves.”_

_“I…I don’t believe that,” he’d stuttered, cursing the tears that’d welled in his eyes._

_Jenny had sighed and flicked her fingers at him.  “Leave me.  Your presence no longer soothes me.”_

Derek flinches and shoves the memory away.  That was the first time she had been intentionally cruel to him – that he knew of at the time.  As it turned out she wasn’t the loving High Priestess he always believed her to be.  She was a dark creature with vile thoughts and hate in her heart.

 

But Nyx wasn’t.  The Goddess wasn’t anything like that.

 

Derek repeats that to himself for the next 10 hours, refusing to fall asleep again.  Kincaid snores loudly across the aisle, his music still pounding through the ear phones.  Ignoring him, Derek watches out the window as the desert becomes the ocean – the ocean to land once again.  When the sun rises and the clouds become too bright to stare at, he pulls out his dark glasses instead of closing the shade.

 

The intercom crackles.  “I would just like to inform all passengers that as the sun progresses more into the sky that it would be beneficial to close your shades for safety reasons,” the pilot announces.  Derek scowls at the speaker above him.  He wasn’t going to close the shade.  If he closes it then he can pretend none of this is happening, which will only make reality harder to face later on.  The real world would still be there when he reopened the shade, so no, it would stay open.

 

Kincaid had startled awake at the announcement and quickly shut his own shade.  Derek knew from experience how much the man hated the blasted ball of heat.  He refused to even step outside the walls of their House of Night during the day.  If the sun was up, Kincaid would either be sleeping (like most vampyres) or hidden away in the armory.  Though the sun was painful for Derek, he didn’t mind it as much as others.  The pain that courses through his temples is a welcome relief to the guilt that continuously drags him down every day.  He’d take physical pain over emotional or mental any day.  That was the main reason he chose the path of a Warrior – it was a welcome distraction.  It’s easy to lose himself in a good training session, whether solo or with a partner (though he prefers a lone workout).  If bad thoughts and memories crept up on him, he would work harder and the burn in his muscles would wash it away.

 

“You should sleep, Hale,” Kincaid grumbles.

 

“Not tired.”

 

“Bull.  I wasn’t born yesterday.  When you first came to Saudi Arabia, you had nightmares every night.  They lasted an entire 2 ½ years.  You screamed through them the first year, worked yourself almost to death through the second, and I will not even comment on what an ass you were for those next 6 months.  The only reason I knew they stopped was because you actually started talking to me.  Not about important things because it’s _you_ , but small talk.  I figured it was good enough,” he says with a shrug.  “At least I knew you weren’t gonna crack and kill us all.”

 

Derek stares at him, completely shocked.  He had no idea the man paid such close attention to him.  It was unnerving and embarrassing to be honest.  There’s no need to ask why Kincaid never said anything about it because that’s just not how it worked among the Warriors.  If you had a problem you were expected to work through it on your own.  A competent Warrior relies only on himself and not others.  Derek always thought that teaching was backwards.  They expected him to trust his brothers and yet rely only on himself.  It was contradictory is what it was.

 

“What’s your point?” Derek eventually asks.

 

“My _point_ , Hale, is that the minute Ate said we were being transferred to the States, that old crazed panic was back in your eyes.  There’s also the fact that you’ve said maybe 15 words to me in the past 10 hours.  And if that damn cat hadn’t wedged his way in, you’d have clawed yourself bloody just at the idea of returning to California.  Derek, I don’t know what happened there, but do not shut down on me now, okay?  You made it the last three years.  You can do this too.”

 

Derek couldn’t stop staring.  Not ever has Kincaid said anything encouraging to him since they’ve known each other.  Honestly, it felt weird and he didn’t like it.  He didn’t want to be encouraged.

 

“By the way,” Kincaid continues.  “You talk in your sleep, just FYI.  Whoever this Jenny woman was...maybe it won’t be so bad to see her again,” he says with a shrug.  He smirks and raises a brow before saying, “You were making some pretty happy sounds over there.”

 

Derek slowly turns to him, anger building tight in his chest.  Kincaid’s low chuckling abruptly stops as he takes in the reaction.

 

“Or not,” he mutters.  Derek continues to glare at him and the man slowly reaches into a cooler by his feet, pulling out a bag of red.  “Relax, kid.  I meant nothin’ by it,” he mumbles as he hands it over.  Derek snatches it out of his hand and eventually stops glaring to fill a glass tumbler that’d been sitting on a low shelf under the windows.  “Think I have to reconsider that whole ‘won’t kill us all’ thing,” Kincaid grumbles, half to himself.  Derek huffs and ignores the comment.  He tips the glass, sighing as the chilled liquid pours onto his tongue and down his throat.  It’s better warmed up, but this will do for now.  He’s never actually tasted fresh human blood – not having the courage to feed from one – and the bagged liquid does a decent enough job.  Calming warmth spreads through his body and lets him relax more fully into his seat.  Ivan, still perched on his lap, purrs delightedly and snuggles closer.

 

As Derek idly pets his familiar, he stares at the liquid swirling in his glass.  Though he’s never drank from a human, he’s drank from an adult Vampyre – when he was a sixth former fledgling – and he has to say it’s a powerful experience.  Of course, the emotional and sexual attachment to said vampyre probably made a difference.

 

Frowning at his thoughts, he turns to the window for a distraction, but finds himself squinting even with the sunglasses.  Derek wishes it were possible to be drunk without having to drink from someone already intoxicated.  He could easily just slip some wine – or perhaps something stronger – into his glass and drift on a nice buzz (possibly for the foreseeable future).

 

“I suggest you finish that bag,” Kincaid says.  “I can’t have you going postal when we get there, so drink up.  We land in…” Kincaid trails off, checking the clock on his phone.  “About 30 minutes.”

 

Derek’s heart gives a painful thud against his ribcage and he quickly refocuses on his baggie.  He was going to make it last the entire 30 minutes, so that maybe – just maybe – Kincaid was right and it would relax him enough to a point where he _won’t_ rip her head off when he sees her again.  Or throw himself off a cliff like his sister supposedly did-

 

Chugging the bag, he throws it on the seat next to him when it’s empty.  “Another,” he demands, holding out a hand.  Kincaid sighs, but thankfully complies.  Thinking of Jenny and his sister in a short amount of time is just plain stupid and he needs to stop _now_.  When he starts sucking the second one down too, Kincaid hastily reaches across the seat and pulls the tube away from his mouth.  He’d forgone the glass, not having the patience for it.

 

“Slow down, kid.  You need to make this one last the next 20 minutes.  I ain’t giving you another one.  I’ve seen you hopped up on this stuff and it ain’t pretty,” the man says.  Derek takes a breath and nods, having to agree with him.  During the first six months of Derek’s third year in Arabia, he’d found that when he overindulged, his life didn’t seem as shitty.  The extra blood helped with the nightmares and the paranoia, not to mention how powerful it made him feel.  But Kincaid was right earlier about him being an ass during that time.  He became arrogant and by default lost quite a few sparring sessions because he believed himself invincible.  When he _did_ lose, he’d get so angry he would lash out at anyone or anything in reach.  His brothers became extremely distant for those months – even Kincaid, who usually pushed through Derek’s shit no matter what (he _was_ in charge after all).

 

Remembering the rare times he blacked out from the rage, Derek forces himself to slow down.  He was feeling fairly relaxed and the fear of returning seemed far away.  It was still there, just distant.

 

“Better,” Kincaid grunts with a nod.  Derek resists glaring at him, knowing he’s only trying to help (which is once again odd).  Maybe it’s their past that has Kincaid finally intervening, Derek isn’t sure.  Like he said earlier, the man apparently paid more attention than he thought.

 

The next 20 minutes went by way too fast and soon the pilot was crackling into the intercom again.

 

“All passengers please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.  We are beginning our descent to the ground.”

 

Ivan yawns widely and tries to pounce into the aisle, but Derek holds onto him, not wanting him to get hurt.  The cat grunts at him and stretches its body to fit along Derek’s chest, his round face and black eyes centimeters away.  A paw comes up to swat Derek on the nose – a reprimand for trying to control him.  Derek playfully tries to bite the paw, getting a purr-growl and tiny nip on his chin in response.

 

“Hale, stop playing with the cat and focus,” Kincaid grumbles.  Derek scowls at him.  There wasn’t anything to focus on right now so he was going to indulge his friend.  They bump along in their seats as the plane’s tires hit the runway.  Ivan gives a startled ‘meow’ and swivels around to look out the window.  Derek joins him in gazing, though just the sight of the familiar airport made him nauseous.  The plane eventually comes to a stop and the intercom crackles.

 

“We have arrived at San Francisco International. Welcome to California, Warriors. Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.”

 

Kincaid is the first to jump from his seat, clearly in Warrior Mode already.

 

“Get a move on, Hale,” he orders.  Derek sighs as Ivan leaps into the aisle, excitement making his tail twitch.  He joins his brother and familiar, grabbing his bags from the overhead carriages and shuffling his way towards the exit.  The heat was nothing compared to Arabia.  In fact, if he were human it would probably be chilly compared to where he was.

 

When they step out of the plane, Derek is careful to keep his eyes on the ground until it’s absolutely necessary to look up.  He caught a glimpse of a small limo with tinted windows in the distance, presumably where their welcome party waits.  Derek almost snorts at his word choice.  This wouldn’t be the friendliest of welcomes – oh, everyone would be super polite with blaring fake smiles, but Derek can already feel the tension from this far away.

 

“Listen to me,” Kincaid murmurs.  He’s facing the limo, hands clasped in front of him as they wait to be greeted.  “I know I don’t have to remind you, but I’m going to anyway.  You will greet whoever it is with respect and be cordial until you can have an inevitable break down in your room later.  Got it?”

 

Derek glares at the ground, resenting the tone and obvious warning.

 

“Yes, sir,” he replies.  Though he was irritated, he knew better than to back talk right now.  They were in a serious and formal situation – now was not the time to disrespect his superiors (even if every single one of them deserved it).

 

“Good boy,” Kincaid grumbles.  Derek flinched at the pet name.  Kincaid didn’t bring it out often, but every time he did it made Derek’s skin crawl.  This was a terrible way to start the night.

 

As the car rolls closer, Derek straightens, clasps his hands behind his back and stares straight ahead.  He’s standing to Kincaid’s right, slightly behind him, as he should be as the younger warrior.  Besides, it doesn’t matter who steps out of that car.  He will not show weakness in front of them – it’s not in his nature.  The only time his guard comes down completely is with Ivan.  He didn’t have to worry about being judged by his familiar.

 

Scanning the ground, he finds the cat in a predictably elegant pose – body half shrouded by Derek’s leg, tail curled around said leg.  He looks regal and yet not intimidating.  Derek is proud.

 

The car finally rolls to a stop several feet away.  Derek is surprised to see a human exit the driver’s seat and open the back left door.  It’s rare for humans to knowingly interact so closely with vampyres.

 

A pair of black work boots emerges, followed by tight blue jeans, and a black long-sleeved button up shirt.  The sapphire crescent moon contrasts brightly against the shaved head.  Spirals descend along the temples and around the cheekbones, framing chestnut brown eyes.  Ennis stands tall, his broad shoulders held back, head held high.  He holds a hand out towards the opening and a familiar, delicate, pale hand with light pink, polished nails slips into his grip.

 

Derek takes a deep breath.  He can do this.

 

Black stiletto heels click onto the pavement with slender legs following suit.  When she fully emerges, Derek’s breath catches at her unnatural beauty – her lithe body encased in a tight black skirt and billowy cream colored blouse with some kind of half polka dot design.  Her silky brunette locks are pinned in a half up-half down style, with the bottom half curled into gentle waves.  She elegantly portrays the soft innocence that many men have jumped in front of to protect – himself included.  Even her lips are painted a rosy hue, making the entire ensemble seem unintimidating and simple.

 

The sight has him reeling back to his sixth former year when all he thought about was her smile and all he craved was her touch.  She’s so flawlessly perfect that she almost has him believing the act she puts on.  It isn’t until their eyes meet for the first time in three years that he remembers who and what she really is.  Jennifer Blake likes to appear as unthreatening as possible so that when she turns on a man, they never see it coming.  Derek certainly hadn’t.

 

Those big, round hazel eyes are wide and excited – framed by vines, swirls, and sparks - but Derek can see the evil glint in them.  She hasn’t changed.  No, she’s still the manipulative, powerful High Priestess he remembers.

 

But he’s changed, that’s for damn sure.  He’s no longer a weak and needy fledgling – he’s a strong young warrior who’s here on a mission to apparently protect Beacon Hills from the woman who betrayed him.  It’s a daunting task, but as she glides towards them – never breaking eye contact – he knows he’s up to the challenge.  If she’s the only one he’ll have to face, that is.

 

Derek pushes the thought away and stares her down as she is him.

 

Kincaid fists his hand over his heart and bows to her.  “Blessed be, High Priestess of Beacon Hills,” he says.  The formal title has him grinding his teeth, but he fists his hand over his heart and mimics Kincaid’s bow.

 

“Merry meet, Priestess,” he says.  The cold tone of his voice satisfies him.  It’s formal, but lacks the general respect Kincaid greeted her with.  Straightening, he sees the pleased smile creep onto her face.

 

“Merry meet, Warriors – and, please, call me Jenny,” she replies with a nod of her head.  Kincaid’s brows tick in surprise, but he doesn’t comment on this being the woman Derek had been dreaming of.

 

Her voice has his heart racing and sweat beading on the back of his neck. Derek remains completely still as he watches her lips move. “It’s a pleasure to have you join us. When Ennis told me he wished to introduce more warriors to our campus, I was hesitant at first. After all, Beacon Hills is a very safe place. We don’t need much protection. However, we _do_ have some new additions to our staff that are worrisome. I’m sure you’ve both heard of the new strain of vampyres?” she asks. She still hasn’t looked away from him and he wants to fidget under her strong gaze, but he doesn’t.

 

“It is the Red Vampyres you speak of?” Kincaid asks, brows furrowed.  “I was under the impression they were secluded at the Tulsa House of Night.”

 

“Apparently Neferet had made several attempts at creating them and when her first and second trials failed, the creatures escaped from her House of Night and traveled to California.  They have only recently revealed themselves and I was kind enough to accept them into my home,” she replies.  Derek’s stomach churns at her fake sweetness.  “Though they seem friendly enough, I do have my concerns, considering the rumors of violence surrounding their kind.  Therefore, I agreed when Ennis proposed the idea of more warriors.  His first suggestion had been you, Kincaid,” she says, smiling brightly at him.  Kincaid – much to Derek’s annoyance – beams back at her, pleased to get a compliment.

 

“And I thank you both for inviting me,” he answers.  If Derek didn’t think he’d be reprimanded _badly_ for it, he’d puke right on her stiletto shoes.

 

“Of course, when I heard which House of Night you were from, I jumped at the chance to invite one of my favorite students to return home.  We’re all very glad to have you back, _Warrior_ Hale,” Jennifer says.  She smirks and looks up through her lashes at him.  He _hates_ that he simultaneously wants to smack and kiss her.  The only thing that stops him from doing either is the fact that if she touches him he _will_ most likely vomit – reprimanded for it or not.

 

“Glad to be back, Priestess,” he replies.  His voice remains cold and he doesn’t smile, which is as much as he’s willing to give.  All three of them are lucky he’s not ripping her head off right now.  Jennifer’s smile falters slightly, but she quickly fixes it and motions everyone to the limo.  As they all shuffle into the vehicle, Ennis stops him and reaches out his arm in greeting.

 

Derek reluctantly grips it.  “Blessed be, Hale.  Thank you for returning,” he says with a nod.

 

“Don’t mention it, sir,” he replies and then releases his arm.  Ennis makes a quick retreat into the limo with Kincaid and Derek following.  He and Ennis weren’t enemies exactly, but they didn’t have the best student/teacher relationship.  In fact, Derek hated him and his class.  The man was often cruel with his teaching, breaking down his students until they either feared him or hated him.  Since Derek was a third former at the time, he didn’t fear anything or anyone – he was an arrogant teen to say the least.  But that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve a _smidgen_ of compassion when his first ever girlfriend died in his arms.

 

Derek slams the door with a bit too much force, but no one comments.  He hopes this night goes by fast, but he has a feeling it’s not going to.

 

* * *

 

 

“Your familiar is lovely, Derek.  Tell me, what is his name?” Jennifer asks.  Derek strokes the cat lying between him and Kincaid, never taking his eyes off the High Priestess across from him.  She was an enemy and should be handled as such.

 

“Ivan,” he replies.

 

“A cute name for a very cute cat,” she says.  Jennifer reaches across the middle to pet him, but Ivan growls fiercely and tries to bite her.  She quickly retracts her hand.  “Well, he isn’t very friendly, is he?”

 

“He doesn’t like strangers,” Derek grits out.  She almost touched his familiar.  What the fuck was she thinking?  If Ivan hadn’t reacted so quickly, Derek would have slapped that hand away.  Ennis snorts at the cat and – speaking practically baby gibberish – also reaches a large hand out.  Ivan lets the hand rest on his head, but a low irritated growl continues to echo through him.  “Like I said, he doesn’t like strangers,” Derek repeats.  Ennis glances up at him and Derek glares until he slowly removes his thick hand from his cat.

 

A tense silence follows until Jenny clears her throat.  “So I guess your decision to transfer to Arabia paid off well,” she says, her right eyebrow ticking in a challenge.  She’s trying to bait him, trying to get him to explode on her.  Well, he’s older now – not as impulsive.

 

“Yes, I suppose it did,” he answers.  Jenny gives him a tight lipped smile and doesn’t comment.

 

“Anyway,” she says with a sigh.  “You two are very lucky to have arrived during such a celebratory time.  The campus is decorated beautifully and the chefs are serving up a great feast.  Oh, and Merry Yule everyone,” Jennifer exclaims on the ride to the school.  Derek had almost forgotten it was a holiday.  He hadn’t found much reason to celebrate anything since he was _sent_ to Arabia.  Even before that, he despised the holidays.  It was just another reminder of how his human family was gone – every last one of them.

 

“Merry Yule, Priestess,” Kincaid and Ennis murmur.  Everyone’s thankfully distracted by pulling up to the campus, that they don’t notice he didn’t return the holiday wishes.  The House was, in fact, gorgeous with twinkling lights strung along the wall and trees.

 

“Mr. Montgomery,” Jennifer calls to the driver.  “Please drop us at the gate as usual.”

 

“Yes, Ms. Blake,” the man answers.  When they pull up, the young man opens Jennifer’s door again like she’s a goddamn Queen.  Derek sighs heavily as he follows the other three out.  Ivan leaps out behind him and prances in circles at his feet.  The human retrieves their bags from the trunk, not struggling at all with the heavy bags.  “Priestess would you like me to carry these inside?” he asks.  As he comes forward with the bags, Derek catches a glimpse of a healing red scar down the length of his neck.  His sight zeroes in on the hand Jenny gently lays on the man’s arm.

 

“That would be wonderful, Mr. Montgomery – and, please, stay for the festivities,” she says.  The handsome young man practically melts under her gaze and Derek quickly looks away.  It isn’t jealousy – more like pity and horror.  This idiot has no idea who he’s sleeping with.  Mr. Montgomery continues through the gate and onto the grounds.  “Now with the formalities out of the way, let us join the other professors and fledglings in the dining hall.  Ennis, feel free to join your mate.  You can discuss Warrior business _after_ dinner,” Jenny says.  The vampyre glances at the two Warriors before hesitantly leaving with a last bow to Jennifer.  “Kincaid, it looks like Mr. Montgomery is having trouble with the bags.  He’s just in the courtyard over there.  Would you mind assisting him?” she asks.  Kincaid looks worriedly between him and Jennifer.  Her eyes narrow at the large man.  “I’m sure Derek can escort me to the dining hall all on his own, Warrior,” she says lowly.

 

Kincaid immediately fists his hand over his heart and bows to her.  “Of course, Priestess.  I will assist Sir Montgomery and then join you for dinner in the dining hall,” he says firmly.  Though he was respectful, Jenny didn’t miss the subtle irritation.  Her lips thin into a line before she turns back to Derek – a grand smile on her face.

 

“It’s great to see you, Derek.  Before we go to dinner, I have to tell you how truly sorry I am for how I acted three years ago.  It was rather harsh of me to-”

 

“In all due respect, _Priestess_ , I am here solely to protect this House of Night and its fledglings.  As per usual, the Leader of your House – Ennis – is in charge of protecting the High Priestess.  Therefore, please do not mistake me for someone who cares for your well-being,” he says, speaking over her.  Her pretty, supple mouth hangs open in shock as she stares up at him.

 

“Derek, I was simply trying to apologize for-”

 

“I do not need nor want your apologies, Priestess.”

 

“For the love of Nyx, _stop_ calling me Priestess.  As I’ve told you before, please call me Jenny,” she says, wide eyes narrowing to slits.

 

“Given the circumstances, I think _Priestess_ , is more appropriate, don’t you?” he asks.  He was struggling to not hyperventilate, or scream, or who knows what.  He hadn’t been in her presence for more than an hour and already it was proving to be more difficult than he imagined.  Jennifer’s mouth snapped shut and she took a step toward him, invading his personal space.

 

“It would do you well to remember exactly who I am,” she says.  The wind around them picks up, lifting her hair from her shoulders.  Derek doesn’t even dare to breathe as power fills her voice, echoing all round him.  “Do not disrespect me again, Warrior,” she seethes.  It was loud enough to reverberate off the stone walls and make Ivan growl deep in his throat.

 

Derek isn’t sure when the man arrived, but suddenly Kincaid is pulling him away from Jennifer, squeezing his shoulder to supposedly calm him.

 

“Priestess, is everything alright?” he asks.  Jennifer takes a deep breath, silently releasing the elements she invoked.

 

“Yes, Kincaid, everything is fine.  I think it’s time for dinner, don’t you?” she asks.  His brother nods, but keeps his body between the two enemies.  Derek tries to distract himself by gazing at the decorations and inhaling the rich scents of the feast.  Though he had made Jennifer lose her temper, he prides himself on not losing his own.  He never raised his voice; he simply told her how it was going to be.  They weren’t anything to each other anymore.  She clearly wanted to play games, but he hated her and could barely stand the sight of her – a sight that still seriously fucks with his head.

 

When they finally enter the House, he takes in how much it’s changed.  The lighting is much darker; the paintings on the walls are of all the professors instead of famous vampyres.  Red carpeting lines the foyer leading up to the staircase that gives way to the dorms.  It was unsettling how different it was.  This place used to be lighter, with bright happy colors.

 

His attention is pulled to the noisy chatter of what could only be a large group of fledglings.  Entering the dining hall, he finds his assumption to be correct.  The stage at the back of the room holds a large table where the professors, their mates, and warriors are gathered.  At least something hasn’t changed – all the vampyres clearly still view themselves above everyone else.  Whispers course through the room as he and Kincaid escort the High Priestess to the stage.

 

Jennifer moves to the front and raises her hands.

 

“Blessed be, fledglings,” she says, her voiced raised with power.  The teens and young adults instantly become silent, intrigue on every face as they wait for their High Priestess to speak.  “First I’d like to say, Merry Yule to you all,” she says.  It gets her a few happy cheers and wine glasses being raised.  “Second I’d like to introduce two new Sons of Erebus who will be joining us for the foreseeable future.  This is Warrior Kincaid Segers – he will be patrolling the outside grounds as a safety precaution.  Do not be alarmed by his presence.  I assure you he is only here for our protection,” she says.  A few fledglings still trade worried glances – he can’t blame them.  It’s rare for a House of Night to gain more than one Son of Erebus.  Jennifer moves to his side then and lays a firm hand on his arm.  Derek resists the instinct to cringe away.

 

“This is Warrior Derek Hale.  He was once a fledgling at this House of Night – one of my best students,” she gushes.  Derek wants to punch her in the face.  “He will be patrolling the halls and sitting in on daily classes to keep fighting between fledglings to a minimum,” she says with a narrowed glance at a table of boys – who sheepishly duck their heads.  One of the professors behind him snorts.  “Just as all adult vampyres and Sons of Erebus, they will be treated with respect.  Please welcome them, fledglings.”

 

A chorus of friendly greetings travels through the crowd – with a few of the more rowdy fledglings (male and female) cheering loudly.

 

“That’s enough,” Jennifer barks, cutting off all the fun.  “Now, let’s have a merry feast!” she shouts.  Sparkling embers erupt above them as she throws up her hands, showering the room in twinkling lights.  Yeah, he definitely wanted to punch her in the face.  “Come, join us,” she says, motioning to the table.  Jennifer sits at the head of the table, with Ennis on her left and Professor Harris on her right.  He recognized many of his old professors, but there were three he’d never seen before.  More astonishing were the Red Crescent moons and tattoos lining their faces.  There was a beautiful dark skinned woman at the other end of the table – her mark growing into some kind of unfinished crosses with triangles inside that he’s never seen before.

 

“Kali, my friend, you are looking well,” Kincaid exclaims, bowing to another of his old professors.  The exotic vampyre grins toothily at him.  Ennis’ mate could sometimes be crueler than her Warrior and Derek was going to avoid that end of the table at all costs.  While Kincaid takes a seat between who he thinks to be Professor Deucalion and an older female vampyre he can’t remember the name of, Derek spies two empty seats at the other end.  As he makes his way down, a familiar voice calls out to him.

 

“So my dear nephew returns,” Peter says with a chuckle.  Derek snaps his gaze to him, unnerved (as he always was) by how similar their tattoos turned out to be.  Where Derek’s were simple Triskeles on his temples, Peter’s had spirals overlaying the Triskeles.  His old mentor and uncle motions for him to take a seat.  He begins to pull out the one straight across from him, but the Red Vampyre at the end stops him.

 

“That one’s taken, but this one’s free,” she says, pulling out the one next to her.  He doesn’t miss the full body check she gives him or the delighted smile that forms.  Derek holds in a sigh and takes the offered chair.

 

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

 

“No problem.  You can sit by me any time,” she practically purrs.  Well, that was fast.  Derek gives her a cordial smile, but then turns back to his uncle – who’s got some kind of demented grin on his face.  The fuck is he up to now?

 

“Derek, it’s been awhile.  Tell me how Arabia was,” he says, sipping his wine.  Derek scowls at him, not understanding his angle.  Peter is never one for simple small talk.

 

“It was fine,” he replies. Just as Derek hears the clomp of heeled boots making their way across the stage, Peter’s grin turns to a downright smirk. His eyes flit to whoever is approaching, but Derek’s eyes have finally noticed the cupcakes in front of him. As he’s reaching for one, a strong hand slithers across his right shoulder and down his chest. The telltale sensation of breasts pushes up against his back as the woman leans in close to whisper in his ear.

 

“You always did have a sweet tooth, baby.”

 

Derek is on his feet in a flash, his chair tipping over with a crash.  Spinning around, he’s instantly glad he didn’t eat that cupcake because it would have come right back up.  His heart is pounding painfully inside his chest as bright hazel eyes meet his.  The room has gone utterly silent as everyone stares at them.

 

“Everything alright, Hale?” Kincaid calls.  His voice is distant, too far away for Derek to answer.  Perfect white teeth shine as rose painted lips part in a familiar half-smile.  The lights shine beautifully on her glossy golden hair as it cascades down past her shoulders, ending just above her ample breasts – which are being held nicely by a skin-tight royal blue shirt.  Kate crosses her arms as a feral grin spreads across her face.

 

“Long time, no see, Derek,” she says.  Derek ignores her words and focuses on the immaculate tattoo on her forehead and face.  It was a pair of jaguars, their claws in the air, ready to fight.

 

“Derek?” Kincaid calls.

 

“He’s fine, Warrior,” Peter chimes in.  “Just surprised to see an old friend…right nephew?” he asks.  Derek finally manages to tear his gaze away to glare at his uncle.  However maniacal his expression, the distraction certainly pulled him from his daze.

 

“Yes, just surprised.  Sorry to interrupt,” he replies with a bow to the whole table.  Conversation slowly picks back up amongst the fledglings as he rights his chair.  He carefully sits back down, but doesn’t reach for the cupcakes again.

 

“Hey!” someone shouts at the other end.  “Where the _hell_ are my cupcakes?”

 

Derek gladly picks up the plate and passes them down, ignoring Kate – who’s gracefully joining them at the table.

 

“Chicken drumstick?” the female red vampyre offers.  He reluctantly takes the plate and adds some chicken to his own.  Kate doesn’t ask for the chicken plate, simply takes it when he’s finished.  Derek is just glad she’s no longer touching him.

 

“My name is Braeden, by the way,” the red vampyre says, regaining his attention.  Derek intentionally gives her his full focus.  Pushy red vamp was better than touchy Kate any day.

 

“Nice to meet you,” he replies with a nod.  The woman leans in close, her cleavage on display.  She grazes a hand along his arm and smiles prettily.  He may need to reconsider pushy red vamp.  It’s still better than dealing with Kate, but if he’s being honest he doesn’t like _anyone_ touching him.  He glares at the finger on his arm, but the woman isn’t deterred.

 

“I’m also the Red High Priestess at this school,” she says.  Derek freezes and leans further out of her space.  No way in hell was he getting involved with a High Priestess again.  “Much to Jenny’s annoyance,” Braedan whispers playfully.

 

Kate scoffs and says, “Much to _everyone’s_ annoyance, you mean.”

 

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, blondie,” Braeden sing-songs.  Derek ignores them both as they begin to bicker back and forth.  He stares intently at his plate as he eats the lettuce Peter had snuck onto it.  He considered it to be poisoned for a moment, but then decided he didn’t give a shit.  He’d rather die a painful poisonous death by his own uncle than have to sit next to Kate any longer.

 

When the two women finally stop, he’s eaten 2 drumsticks and most of the salad on his plate.  He swears Peter just keeps adding more when he’s not looking.

 

“So, Derek,” Kate starts.  His fork scrapes along his plate, making everyone cringe.  “Have you seen your new room yet?” she asks.  She pops a piece of potato into her mouth and he has the sudden urge to stab his fork into her throat.  She’d bleed out all over those fucking potatoes.  Derek looks away, knowing that she wouldn’t die from it anyway so it was a pointless thought.  He shakes his head in answer, still not willing to actually talk to her.  “Guess what,” she says.  He sighs, ignoring her by crunching on his lettuce.  “The barracks are right next door to the Professor dorms.  Would you like me to sneak over tonight?” she asks in his ear.  She’s leaning her whole body against him and her lips are way too fucking close to him.

 

Derek glances up to see if anyone is watching this debacle.  The two male red vamps are watching on in amusement, predatory grins focused on Kate.  Peter is trying to hide his laughter behind a piece of bread, the fucker.  Professor Morrell on the other side of Kate is giving them some serious judgmental side-eye, as is the elderly professor he still can’t remember the name of.  Derek realizes with a horrifying thought that it’s perfectly acceptable for her – and Jenny if she so chose – to flirt with and touch him in public now.  When he left, he’d only been a vampyre for a few days.  So he had to hide both relationships back then.  There’d always been some kind of feeling of safety then – he knew that if another Professor or adult vampyre found out, then it’d end and the two women would be banned from the House of Night.

 

But he’s an adult now.  There won’t be anyone coming to his rescue if he asked for help.  Not that there was any help back then considering he never told (well, he told Peter, but that was different).

 

Derek jumps slightly when a hand travels up his left thigh and squeezes the muscle there.  Her hot breath tickles his neck and he cringes when she bites playfully at his earlobe.

 

“Don’t you miss the hot crazy sex we had, sweetie?” she whispers.  Derek inhales a piece of lettuce and chokes, causing a massive coughing fit.  Braeden reaches over and pats his back, while Peter pushes his glass of wine in his face.  The seizing of his stomach causes acid to rise up and he quickly (more elegantly this time) gets to his feet and rushes to where he knows the nearest exit is.

 

On his way out, he hears Braeden scoff and say, “Goddess, Kate, you’re such a whore.”

 

It would have made him laugh had it not felt like his insides were being ripped out.

 

* * *

 

 

As he’s vomiting what little dinner he ate, the door he burst through opens again.

 

“I knew that chicken tasted funny,” Kincaid grumbles.  The man wisely doesn’t approach him, simply waits for him to finish – which thankfully only takes a few more minutes.  When his stomach is completely empty, he braces his hands on the brick wall and tries to catch his breath.  “Talk to me, Hale.  What was that?” he asks eventually.

 

“Bad chicken,” he mutters.

 

Kincaid scowls, not amused.  “There wasn’t anythin’ wrong with the chicken.  Tell me what’s going on.  Clearly you failed to mention this thing with Kate-”

 

“I’m not doing this with you,” Derek grumbles.  The man sighs heavily and shakes his head.

 

“You wanna suffer in silence, that’s fine by me.  But I think you should head to the barracks and get some rest.”

 

Derek straightens and glares at him.  “That an order?”

 

The large vampyre’s expression flattens out – a clear sign Derek has pushed him too far.  “Yes.  That’s an order, Warrior.  Go to the barracks until you’re thinkin’ straight again.”  With that, the man marches back into the dining hall, slamming the door behind him.  Derek’s fists clench, but he’s aware enough to take a deep breath and _not_ punch the wall until his knuckles bleed.  He does as ordered and retreats into the barracks, trying not to think of Kate’s room that’s probably around the corner.

 

He finds his dorm easily, a white plaque on the door reading ‘D. Hale’.  Opening the door, he pauses when something rustles above him.  When he looks up, he wants to scream in anger, but he doesn’t.  A perfectly elegant piece of mistletoe is hanging in the doorway.  He rips it down and wishes he _had_ ripped her head off now.  Jennifer had used mistletoe as an excuse to kiss him on the lips for the first time.  The flashback he had on the plane hadn’t been the first kiss, but the passionate lip lock that led to their first time in bed.

 

No, the first kiss had been a simple affair.  She cornered him in the stables, where she’d conveniently hung a sprig of mistletoe.  Derek had been stunned and nervous, but curious as well.  That first kiss led not only to a relationship, but an Imprint – which she broke.

 

Derek rips the plant down and clenches it in his tight fist.  He slams his way into his room, the door banging closed behind him.  His plan is to crush it to tiny pieces and throw those pieces out the goddamn window.  He takes two steps into the room and freezes.

 

“This can’t be happening,” he whispers.  A familiar flower rests on his pillow – long green stem covered in bulbous purple flowers.  The light catches on something silver by his bedside.  On numb legs, he moves towards the end table and snatches up what appears to be a photo in a silver frame.  He tilts it towards the flickering light and then drops it with a yelp.  “What the fuck,” he breathes.  It was a picture of him and Kate from 5 years ago, when he was fourth former.  She had her arms wrapped around his neck from the side and her lips pressed to his cheek in a firm peck.  He’d been smiling happily as he snapped the scene with her camera phone.

 

Taking a deep breath does nothing for him as he inhales an all too familiar scent.  Groaning in horror, he leans towards the bed and takes a whiff of his pillow.  It was her perfume.  She fucking sprayed it all over his sheets.

 

Derek’s breaths came sharp and fast as he slowly backed away from the bed.  He turned away from the plant, the sheets, and the photo and tried to calm down.  Scrubbing his hands over his face, he stills as his gaze catches on the mirror on the opposite wall.  All around his ashen reflection are tiny wallet size photos of the two of them – taken in a photo booth.

 

“No, no, no, no,” he grumbles.  Spinning around, he grabs the silver frame from the floor and with a shout hurls it at the mirror.  It cracks, but doesn’t break – as if mocking him.  Screaming in a rage, Derek runs at the mirror, fist raised.  His skin splits as the cracks spread until finally the glass shatters and the photos flutter to the floor.  He eventually runs out of air for screaming and falls to his knees.  Multiple Kate’s stare up at him, prompting him to rip every single picture into tiny pieces.  He hates her hazel eyes, he hates her golden hair, he hates her pretty smile, and he hates her brilliant tattoos.

 

Anytime he even thinks of her now, all he sees is her hands on fire, and all he hears is her telling him he’d regret betraying her.  He didn’t do it though.  He never told Jennifer, never blabbed about their relationship.  Derek never should have said he was going to do that – he never should have taken Peter’s advice.  He hates Kate and he hates Peter and he _hates_ Jennifer.  He hates himself.  It was all his fault anyway.

 

There’s a loud noise all around him, but he’s not sure what it is.  All he can hear is her laughter; all he can see are her eyes, all he can feel are her lips, and all he can smell is her perfume.  Pain radiates up his right arm, but it doesn’t matter – it feels good.  He doesn’t know what it is, but he wants it to keep going and it does.  It gets worse and worse until a sharp agony shoots up his arm.  The loud noise never falters, but does become more disturbing.  He wishes he knew what it was so he could turn it off.

 

Something strong wraps around him from behind and he thrashes against it.  It had to be her.  She always came up behind him when he least expected.

 

_“Take off your clothes, sweetie.”_

 

He’s told her again and again that it was over.  Why couldn’t she leave him alone?  If he denies her, she’ll use it again – the flames that leap from her fingertips.  She called it foreplay.  He called it fucking twisted.

 

The noise grows louder as he tries to escape her tight grasp.  A sudden yelling in his ear has him spinning in confusion.

 

“Derek, stop!” a voice booms.

 

“Yelling won’t help, Kincaid!” someone shouts.

 

“Well what do you suggest?!”

 

Derek doesn’t understand what’s happening.

 

“Someone get Deaton.”  That was the second voice again – definitely female.  Someone’s hands are on his face and he tries to pull away.  “Derek, look at me.  It’s going to be alright, calm down.”  Following the voice, he blinks to find the Red High Priestess staring intently at him.  It’s her hands on his face, her voice bringing him from the darkness.  “That’s good.  Just focus on me.  Follow my breathing,” she says soothingly.  This was definitely not what he expected from her.  It’s nice, but at the same time he really wishes she wasn’t touching him.  Derek works on controlling his breathing while simultaneously pulling away from her.  Kincaid’s still wrapped around him from behind, which he doesn’t like either – too constricting.

 

Derek takes a few deep breaths and reaches back to push him off.  The man reluctantly releases him and once he’s free he slides from his knees onto his back.  He counts his breathing and tries to focus.  His memory of what just happened is foggy – too many pieces not enough space.

 

“Derek, can you hear me?”

 

Glancing to his left, he finds Deaton hovering over him.  His expression tells him the man’s been trying to get his attention for at least a few minutes now.  When they make eye contact, Deaton nods with a sigh.

 

“You two can leave now, I’ll take it from here,” he says.

 

“I’m not leaving,” Kincaid argues.  “He’s my Warrior, I’m responsible for him.”  Derek would roll his eyes, but he’s too tired.

 

“Your concern is honorable, but I think I have better knowledge of what triggered this than you do.”  Derek frowns at that, but doesn’t say anything.  His brother sighs and reluctantly agrees to leave him with the doc.  The Red High Priestess retreats as well, her eyes filled with concern.  That was still odd.  She didn’t even know him.  They gently close the door behind them and it’s blissfully silent.

 

“What was that noise?” he rasps.  He’s surprised to find his throat hurting and voice hoarse.

 

“It was you, Derek,” Deaton says gently.  “A group of fledglings heard you screaming and shouted for help.  Kincaid had been coming to check on you anyway.”  Derek remembers the initial screaming when he broke the mirror, but he doesn’t remember continuing so long to make his throat sore.  “Do you not remember?” he asks.

 

“Not really,” he replies with a sigh.

 

“Has this happened before?”

 

Derek flicks a nervous glance at him.  “Yes.”  Deaton nods in understanding and then brings a red baggie out of a cooler by his side.

 

“Drink this.  It will help with the fatigue.”  Derek takes it eagerly, popping the tube and upending it into his mouth.  The familiar warmth spreads through him, making him more alert and energized.  “Derek, how many times has this happened?”

 

He sighs and feels a scowl forming.  “I don’t know.”

 

Deaton frowns.  “You don’t know as in you don’t remember, or you don’t know as in you don’t want to tell me?” he asks.  Derek huffs and pushes himself into a sitting position.  He hisses as pain radiates through his right hand.  Deaton immediately takes it within his own, the hurt slowly ebbing as the man heals him.

 

“Both, I guess,” he grumbles, annoyed.

 

“Do you know _why_ this keeps happening?”

 

“No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” he mutters.  Derek pulls his mostly healed hand from him and crosses his arms.  Deaton doesn’t react to the attitude, his calm exterior remaining in place.

 

“My best guess is a form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD,” he says.  Derek narrows his eyes at his presumptuous statement.  Whatever Deaton _thought_ he knew, he was wrong.  He didn’t know anything and Derek wanted to keep it that way.

 

“Are you done diagnosing me now?” he asks, brow raised.

 

Deaton’s mouth thins in a rare show of annoyance.  “Yes, I suppose.  For now.”  Derek takes the answer for what it is and gets to his feet.  The extra blood pumps through his veins, making him feel stronger and able to handle the shit storm that is his life.  The doc stands with him, beady eyes trained on his every movement.  The analyzing was unnecessary and definitely unwanted.

 

“If you don’t mind, I have things to do now.”

 

Deaton’s brow furrows.  “What is it you have to do?” he asks warily.  Derek almost laughs at the tone – like the man thinks he’s gonna go kill someone or jump out a window.  He’ll admit both crossed his mind, but he’s not that stupid.

 

“That’s none of your business,” he retorts.  He crosses his arms again and glares at the doc.  The man doesn’t seem fazed.

 

“As your current physician, I would like to know you’re not a danger to yourself or others.”  Derek sighs, clearly getting that he wasn’t going to leave without some reassurance.

 

“I’m calm now.  I’m not gonna do anything stupid.  In case you hadn’t noticed, my rooms trashed.  I’d like to clean it before the nights over.”  Deaton narrows his eyes, not believing it.

 

“I can help you do that.”

 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Derek grumbles.  Deaton still doesn’t back down or leave.  “Fine,” he snaps.  “If you really wanna help I’m gonna need a dust pan, garbage can, and extra garbage bags.”

 

The doc looks reluctant to leave, but eventually nods in agreement.  When he’s finally alone, he runs a hand through his hair and takes inventory of the room.  The mirror was shattered; there was a major dent in the wooden floor, drops of blood in the debris of glass and paper fragments, and at some point he wrenched a bed post off the frame and broke it into multiple pieces.  It was going to be a bitch to clean up.

 

Focusing on that was better than analyzing what happened.

 

The door swings back open, revealing Deaton with a pan, can, and extra bags. They work in silence, side-by-side. The glass and wood splinters are first. Derek handles the ripped pictures and then strips the whole bed – stuffing everything into a large trash bag. It didn’t matter if he washed the scent out.

 

Just knowing she was around his sheets and possibly laying on them – they had to go.  Deaton raises a brow about it, but doesn’t comment.  Derek goes the extra mile and flips the mattress.  He really didn’t want to have to buy a new one, so this would have to do.  When everything was finally in trash bags, the two vampyres haul everything outside to the dumpsters.  They land in the metal tin with a satisfying thud.

 

“Did this make it better?” Deaton questions.  Derek glances at him and only gives him a nod.  “Derek, I’m going to make a suggestion and you have every right to refuse, but just hear me out.  I think you should talk to someone – a professional, I mean.”

 

“I’m not crazy.”

 

“I never said you were.”

 

“You just said I should seek professional help,” Derek argues.

 

“Yes, I did.  Therapy is not a bad thing Derek,” he says.  Derek rolls his eyes.  “Okay, how about another option – it doesn’t have to be a professional, but I _highly_ advise you to talk to _someone_ about your problems; a friend, a fellow Warrior, one of our High Priestesses, myself or Marin.  Just someone you can trust.”

 

“I don’t trust anyone.”

 

Deaton sighs and shakes his head.  “If talking’s not your thing, then I suggest a _healthy_ distraction – a sport, hobby, or some other activity to keep your mind occupied.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” he grumbles before turning and walking away.

 

The next few weeks pass in a blur of stress, anger, fear, and a few more rage blackouts.  He goes through the daily motions, but tries to stay as disconnected as possible.  The fledglings whisper about him – talks ranging from his physique to his possible psychosis.  He learns that many of them fear him and give him a wide berth in the halls.  When he’s monitoring a class, they send nervous glances his way, but none of them speak to him.  A few of the braver girls – and a guy or two – try to flirt with him, but he stares at them as if confused.  If he doesn’t respond, they eventually give up and move on.

 

When he has an interaction with Jennifer or Kate, he’ll retreat to the gym and punch a bag for hours.  He figures it’s better than punching people or walls.  Once in a while, on bad days, he’ll take a sword or knife to a dummy and slash at it until it’s in ribbons.  He did this during one of the Tae Kwon Do classes by accident – he didn’t realize a class was in session.  When he turned around the fledglings were staring in shock and Noshiko was glaring like he shredded her personal dummy.  Maybe he did, he doesn’t know.

 

Life continues on this way for weeks, until January rolls around and a newly marked fledgling comes to Beacon Hills.  Derek wouldn’t have even cared or noticed, but when she arrived the school was immediately put on lockdown.  He can’t imagine why a fledgling would cause such a ruckus.

 

Then again, he could have never guessed who the girl was.


	2. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Allison Argent! Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to thee, hearken to Her sweet voice. Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This chapter is much longer than the last and I hope you all enjoy :)
> 
> Many Original Characters are introduced in this chapter, so I'm sorry if it gets confusing.

**Allison**

The middle of her forehead burned and her cold definitely got ten times worse.  She couldn’t believe this happened.  Her parents were going to be so upset.  This was everything they _didn’t_ want for her.  Allison can still see that tattooed hand pointing at her as the vampyre recited some kind of incantation.

 

“Allison Argent!  Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth.  Night calls to thee, hearken to Her sweet voice.  Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night.”

 

It was awful - definitely the worst thing that’s ever happened to her.  So, she was a vampyre now?  How did that even work?  She knows nothing of the vampyre society, other than what her parents have told her.  They were bloodthirsty heathens that should be hunted down and killed.  Should she even go home with this tattoo on her forehead?  Will her parents take one look at her and want to kill her?  She knows her aunt – her father’s sister – was Marked a long time ago.  They didn’t kill her, but she was excommunicated from the family.  Allison hasn’t seen her since she was little.  She always thought her aunt was cool, even as a vampyre.  But her father said she was crazy – that she couldn’t be trusted.  Allison wonders if that’s true.

 

“Ally, what are you gonna do?” her friend asks.  “God, you look awful,” she whispers with a cringe.  Allison glares at her.

 

“Thanks,” she grumbles.  Melony has been her friend only for a few months, so she gets that this is probably a lot for her to handle.  It didn’t really matter if the girl turned from her now.  Allison kind of hated her anyway.  She was just someone to eat lunch with.  Being the new girl sucked tremendously.

 

“Oh my god,” she groans.  “I’m gonna have to be the new girl at a new school _again_ – and they’re not even human this time.”

 

“Honey, I hate to break it to you, but neither are you,” Melony says.  She reaches out to pat Allison’s arm, but after glancing at her forehead for the umpteenth time she retracts her hand.  Nice.  “You’re gonna have to live with them now.  Oh gosh, who am I gonna sit with at lunch?  I mean, I’m sure I’ll find someone, but still…” she says, biting her lip.  Allison sighs heavily.  Yes, this terrible event was all about her.  We should all feel bad for Melony.  “What’re you gonna tell your parents?  Your dad is gonna _flip_ …not to mention your _mom_.  I can’t imagine having to tell _my_ parents something like this – let alone _yours_ ,” she says.  Her eyes are wide and she’s shaking her head sadly.  “Well anyway, it’s almost third hour.  I should really get to class.  So, um, call me and let me know how it goes,” she says and then skedaddles right out the door.  Allison glares at her retreating back.  She hated this school.

 

The thought has her pausing.  Would a school full of vampyres be anything like this one?  She can’t imagine what vampyre kids are even like.  She shudders at the thought and pulls her jacket more closely around her.

 

Staring at her reflection, she barely recognizes herself.  Her skin is pale and there are dark circles under her eyes.  Is she dying?  She knows vampyre kids need to be around adult vampyres or they die, right?  She thinks of home and her parents – wondering if they would truly want her to die.  They wouldn’t, right?  No matter how strong their prejudices, they would still love her – she’s their little girl, their only child.

 

Nodding firmly to herself, she grabs her pack and hastily makes her way out of the girl’s bathroom.  It was just after lunch, so the other students were already in their afternoon classes.  She didn’t embarrass easily, so when she was Marked in a hall full of students, it didn’t really matter.  The awful part was the being Marked thing.  What does that even mean?  Marked by who or what?  Vampyres follow a Goddess, right?  The religion part of this change wouldn’t be that difficult for her.  She doesn’t really believe in anything now – she wasn’t raised to.

 

Believing in a powerful Goddess couldn’t be that bad.  At least vampyres were matriarchal, right?  That’s what her family’s all about too.  Her _hunting_ family – as in _vampyre hunters_.

 

She thinks she’s underestimating how bad this will be.  Should she just go straight to the closest House of Night and not even deal with her parents?  That thought hadn’t crossed her mind until now.

 

As she slips into her car, a terrible cough wracks her body.  She slumps over the steering wheel to catch her breath.  This was so not good.  Okay, going home was a bad idea.  She was just gonna go straight to the closest House of Night she could find.  There was one in the city, but she didn’t know how to get there.  She knew of one just outside San Francisco.  It had the word Hills in it or something.  That one was only about 15 minutes away.  That was her safest choice.

 

As she drives, she bites at her lips in nerves.  Would they be kind when she arrived?  Her family has a large reputation – would they not even want her?  Would they send her away to die a horrible coughing death?  The thought has her hacking up a lung again, her eyes watering, and hands trembling on the wheel.  It didn’t matter.  She had to at least try.  Allison was not going to die just because she was too afraid.

 

Fifteen minutes later she’s pulling up to a grand stone building that looks more like a medieval mansion than a high school.  She pulled up to the gate, but it didn’t open.  There must be a voice box somewhere.  Not seeing one, she climbs unsteadily from the car.  Though it was mid-afternoon, she couldn’t see anyone inside.  Did they truly burn in the sunlight?  She’ll admit it was a little much for her eyes, but her skin isn’t blistering or anything.  Allison slowly walks up to the iron gate, her arms crossed tightly.

 

“Hello?” she calls.  She yelps as a large man emerges from seemingly nowhere.  His muscles were _huge_ ; he was well over six feet and his mouth was set in a grim line under his dark shades.  So, the sunlight doesn’t burn them.  That’s reassuring.

 

“May I help you?” he asks.

 

“Um, yes.  Is there a principle – or someone – I can speak to?” she asks.  For fucks sake she sounded like a scared little girl.  She cleared her throat and stood straighter.  “I have been recently Marked and would like to come in,” she says.  Well that came out awkward.  “Please,” she adds with a nod.  The large man – or vampyre, very large vampyre – takes off his glasses and squints at her.  He looks around in confusion.

 

“Where are your parents?” he asks.  She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.  This was a bad idea.  She should just go home.  Allison quickly spins and begins walking back to her car.  “Wait!”

 

The loud command makes her jump and she slowly turns back around.  The vampyre swings open the gate and strides towards her.  He gets way too close, making her grimace.  Damn it, she should have agreed with her mother about training.  This would be less awful if she were properly trained to fight.  Not that she’d stand much chance against this guy.  Allison wants to smack her own forehead for forgetting her bow and arrows.  No, she couldn’t really fight – but she could definitely shoot some arrows into this guy – vampyre – thing.

 

The man looks her over and nods to himself.  “You’ve come just in time.  How are you feeling?” he asks.  Okay…that was not what she was expecting.  Allison begins to tell him she’s fine, but a small cough comes out instead.  It actually wasn’t as bad as before and she wasn’t as tired.

 

“Um, better I think,” she says, confused.

 

“That’s good.  Come with me, you can retrieve your vehicle later.  You must meet with our High Priestess,” he says, stretching out a hand.  Allison hesitantly takes it and lets him lead her past the gate and stone wall.  She looks back forlornly, wondering if she just said goodbye to her human life forever.  “Don’t be frightened.  You are welcome here,” the vampyre says.

 

“Maybe,” she replies, mostly to herself.  The man’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t question her.  He leads her through a lovely courtyard with large oak trees and then through wooden double doors.  She finds that she barely needs to blink to adjust her sight to the sudden dimness.  The building has a bit of an ominously ancient feel to it – all dark with deep rich colors.  The vampyre leads her up the red carpeted staircase and down a long hallway.  A girl a little older than her stumbles out of what must be a bathroom, a giant yawn on her face.  When she blinks her eyes open, she pauses and stares.

 

“A newbie?” she asks.  The man scowls at her and doesn’t answer.  They pass by and Allison can’t help but stare as well.  She’s never seen a fledgling up close before.  Besides the tattoo (and her good looks), the girl didn’t seem all that scary or different.  She even gives a small wave as Allison turns the corner, but she’s too stunned to return the gesture.

 

Allison refocuses on the vampyre that’s leading her down a darkened hallway.

 

“Who are you?” she asks timidly.  He glances down at her, making her instantly regret speaking.  The man doesn’t reply for at least 5 minutes, making her think he won’t.

 

“My name is Ennis,” he says.

 

“Oh, okay.  I’m Allison,” she replies.  This ‘Ennis’ doesn’t seem to really care, simply grunts as a response.  She’s really hoping not all the adult vampyres are like this – or all the boys for that matter.  They ascend a smaller staircase and travel down another long corridor.  At the end are large, white double doors with brass knobs.  It’s very elegant and bright compared to everything else.

 

As she assumed, they stop at these doors and Ennis turns to her.

 

“I will wake the Priestess for you and she will explain everything,” he says.  He then leans closer, towering over her.  “Do.  Not.  Move,” he orders.  Allison nods quickly, receiving a nod in return.  The man – vampyre – quietly enters the room and leaves her alone in the hallway.  She wonders what this High Priestess will be like – if she’ll figure out who she is and throw her out.  There’s still time to run.

 

Who is she kidding?  If she even tried to run, there’s no doubt she’d get lost.  She’d tried to count the turns and staircases like her mother taught her, but her nerves got the better of her.  There’s no way she could find her way back to the entrance and to her car.

 

Her thoughts are interrupted when one of the doors swing open.  When a handsome young man emerges, she’s confused to say the least.  He gives her a smile and nod as he passes by, whistling as he walks down the hall.  Allison watches him go and it takes her several minutes to realize that he didn’t have a Mark – he was human.  She finds herself still gaping when both doors whoosh open, startling her.

 

An absolutely gorgeous woman stands before her dressed only in a silky white robe and diamond necklace.  Allison’s jaw drops more than it already was.  Her cleavage is on clear display, the blue pendant hanging from the necklace nestled between her breasts.  Wavy dark hair flows around her shoulders, highlighting the sapphire crescent moon on her forehead.  The design continues into sparks along her forehead, swirls traveling down her temples, and flowering vines framing her eyes.  She’s beautiful beyond words and Allison can practically feel the aura of power she’s exuding.

 

“You must be Allison,” she says.  The young girl nods, still in shock.  Ennis comes back into view and returns to her side in the hallway.  “My name is Jennifer, but you can call me Jenny.”  Allison blinks at that.  Somehow the name just didn’t fit the view.  “I’m terribly sorry for how underdressed I am, but you caught me at a bad time.  If you’d be so patient as to wait in my office with Ennis, I’ll dress and meet you there.”

 

“No problem,” Allison replies, pulling herself together.  Jenny nods and closes the doors once more.  When she’s no longer in view, Allison’s thoughts can finally untangle themselves.  As she follows Ennis down the hallway and to a staircase leading to the first floor, she can’t help but think how strange that encounter was.  That woman – the High Priestess – was obviously just having sex with a human man.  In the middle of the day and with students only a few halls down.  It was definitely not something she ever saw in her human high school, that’s for damn sure.

 

Ennis brings her to another set of double doors – this time a dark wood just like the rest of the floor – and ushers her inside a large office.  He motions for her to have a seat in front of the mahogany desk.  It’s situated in front of the window, but the red velvet curtains are drawn.  Looking around, she realizes that even though it’s quite dark, she can see perfectly fine.  It’s just one more anomaly to add.

 

The vampyre with her stands back by the door, all serious and alert, like he thinks she’s gonna run or something.  She already vetoed that idea.  At least the guy took off his shades, letting her finally see his eyes.  She examines his tattoos as well.  They’re much simpler than Jenny’s had been; simple wavy lines that lead to spirals at his temples.  She knows that, just like the original Mark, the designs appear on their own – no ink or needle needed.  Allison wonders if each individual’s tattoos have significant meaning or if it’s all random.

 

She doesn’t have long to wait – only a few minutes go by until Jenny is sweeping through the door.  Allison bites her lip at how just a simple wardrobe change has completely affected the woman’s appearance.  She’s no longer a regal sexy vampyre, but a woman who knows she’s got all the power and isn’t afraid to use it.  Allison was definitely intimidated.

 

Jenny had put on a black fitted suit, brushed out her hair, removed the necklace, and added some dark eye liner.  It made her look both professional and completely terrifying.  The woman sits opposite her behind the desk, the black leather chair making her seem queen-like.

 

“So, Allison – Ennis tells me you came on your own.  Where is your human family?” she asks.  Allison was surprised at her gentle tone, having expected her to be cold like the other vampyre.

 

“I haven’t told them,” she replies.  Jenny raises a surprised brow.

 

“Would you like me to call them?  Just give me their number and I’ll-”

 

“No!” Allison practically shouts.  The woman doesn’t startle, but her eyes widen slightly.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to yell.  I just…I mean you don’t even know who I am and you probably won’t want my parents here.  You seem really nice and I’d like to live here…I’ll die if I leave, right?  That’s what happens.  A fledgling away from adult vampyres dies.  Please don’t send me away yet.  I promise I’m not like my parents, I won’t hurt anyone,” she babbles.

 

“Child, calm down, everything’s alright,” Jenny says.  She stands and comes to sit in the chair next to Allison, taking her hand in a gentle grasp.  “No one’s sending you away,” she says.  As they stare at each other, Jenny tilts her head, her eyes roaming Allison’s face.  “You seem familiar.  Do you live in Beacon Hills?” she asks.

 

“No.  I’m from San Francisco,” she replies.  “My family used to live here a long time ago though.”  Jenny nods, her eyes still trained on the girl’s face.  Allison tries not to fidget under her sharp gaze.

 

“Those eyes…I’m sure we must have met before this,” Jenny murmurs.  Allison shakes her head, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

 

“Priestess,” Ennis interrupts.  “Her family?”

 

The woman nods, refocusing.  “Yes, of course.  You said earlier that you’re not like them – that you wouldn’t hurt us.  Why would you hurt us, Allison?  Who exactly are you?”

 

Allison – to her own embarrassment – feels her eyes grow wet.  If she tells them, they’ll hate her.  If she were in their shoes, she would hate her too.  Her family is the most volatile anti-vampyre group on the west coast.  She shouldn’t have even mentioned her family.  She should have lied and said they were all gone or that she was in the system or something.

 

“Allison, I promise I’m not going to send you away.  You can tell me,” Jenny says, squeezing her hand.  Allison’s immediate thought is that this woman can’t promise that – not until she knows the truth.  The girl takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes, and straightens.

 

“My name is Allison Argent.”

 

Jenny instantly releases her hand and leans away from her.  Allison presses her lips tighter together when she feels her bottom one trembling.  She will not cry in front of these people.  She will be strong and take their judgment.

 

“Allison, were you at school when you were Marked?” Jenny asks.  Of all the questions, that was not what she was expecting.

 

“Um, yes, I was at school – in the hallway.  Does that matter?” she asks.  The woman’s lips thin and she looks to the other vampyre.  If Allison had thought the man was on alert before, she was sorely mistaken.

 

“How long ago did you leave school?” he asks.

 

“Maybe an hour?”

 

Allison looks back and forth, not understanding their reactions.

 

“Priestess, may I voice my opinion?” Ennis asks.

 

“Of course, Warrior.”

 

“We need to get her out of here.  It’s been an hour already.  If they find out she’s here-”

 

“Nonsense!” Jennifer barks.  She jumps to her feet, her eyes narrowed.  “If we send her away she will die one way or another, you know that.  Besides, we will not cower from _humans_ ,” she says.  She said the word with such venom that Allison shrunk away.  Noticing her reaction, Jenny takes her chin in a firm grasp and forces Allison to look her in the eyes.  “I will _not_ send you away.  I took a hunter in once before and I will do it again.  But you need to be strong for what’s about to happen.  You have been Marked by our Goddess and you will need to choose.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

 

The vampyre’s eyes were burning with what Allison could only describe as righteous fury.  She knows that look well – her mother had it often.

 

Allison nods in understanding.  She was going to have to choose between her human family and the vampyre community.  How was she ever going to do that?  They raised her, they were all she had.  The Priestess releases her chin and looks back to the Warrior.

 

“Rouse the Warriors.  The school is on lockdown until further notice,” she orders.  He bows to her and rushes for the door.  “And Ennis,” she calls.  “Find me Kate Argent.”  Allison’s eyes widen in disbelief.  Before she can ask any questions, Jenny is stomping towards the back wall and removing a large painting.  A small red button is hidden behind it and she doesn’t hesitate to push it.

 

An automated message in Jennifer’s voice begins to play.

 

“This is your High Priestess speaking.  As of this moment this House of Night is on full lockdown.  All Vampyres and fledglings retreat to either the dorms or a classroom.  Remain hidden until told otherwise.”

 

“Is this necessary?  I didn’t tell them I was here,” Allison says.  Jennifer sighs and comes to her side.  She suddenly pushes the collar of her shirt aside and presses fingers into her shoulder.  “What-”

 

“Hold still,” she orders.  Allison clenches the armrests, not understanding what’s happening.  The woman feels around for a few minutes, but stops just below her collar bone.  She sighs and says, “It doesn’t matter if you told them or not.  They’ll know soon enough.”

 

“I don’t understand.  What does that mean?” she asks.  She feels around the spot Jennifer had probed.  The lockdown message was on a loop and her nerves were through the roof.  Allison fumbles around, but can’t feel anything on or in her shoulder.

 

The door to the office slams open, making her jump to her feet in fear.

 

“Priestess, they’re already at the gate.  What are your orders?”

 

“M-my parents?” Allison stutters.  A terrifying thought hits her and she turns to Jennifer.  “Please don’t hurt them.  They won’t attack, I swear.”  The woman hesitates, but eventually nods with a sigh.

 

“They are not allowed inside the grounds until I deem them not a threat.  Where have you stationed your Warriors?”

 

“Kincaid is at the gate and Derek is guarding the fledgling dormitories.”

 

“And Kate?”

 

Ennis opens his mouth to respond, but the clomping of heals interrupts him.  A beautiful blonde rounds the corner and Allison can only stare in wonder.  She was dressed in dark blue jeans, a flowery black lace shirt, and heeled boots.  Her aunt looked fierce with her hair down in waves and the violent imagery across her forehead.

 

“You rang?” she asks with a smirk.  Her eyes scan the room and when they land on Allison, her smile falters.  She stares and Allison gives her a sheepish smile, not knowing how else to react.  Her aunt sighs and crosses her arms.  “Nyx got you too, huh?”

 

Allison frowns at that.  “Um, I guess?” she replies.  Kate shakes her head in obvious dismay.

 

“It’s a damn shame,” she grumbles.

 

“Katherine, that’s enough,” Jenny says.  Allison’s eyes widen further at the power in her voice.  Her aunt, however, doesn’t seem to be affected.  In fact, she seems downright annoyed at her High Priestess.  “Your brother is at my gate,” the woman says with a scowl.  “You will both come with me to deal with this,” she orders.

 

“At your service, Jenny,” Kate retorts with a salute.  Allison cringes at her attitude and glances at the Priestess.  Her eyes have narrowed and there’s a strange dark aura pulsing around her.  She expects a vampyre fight to break out at any moment with the way they’re glaring at each other, but instead Jennifer simply walks passed them all and down the long corridor.  “Come on, kid.  Let’s get this over with,” Kate says.  She prances out the door and Allison hastily follows her.  The Warrior – Ennis – remains alert as he walks behind them.  She almost feels bad for how obviously scared these people are of her parents.

 

When they reach the main corridor again, Allison sees a young man standing at the top of the staircase.  She quickly realizes that he must be another Warrior – Derek, she thinks Ennis said – given how muscular and tense he is.  To her shock, Kate glides right up to him and grazes her body along his.

 

“Come to protect me, baby?” she asks, batting her lashes.  Allison had expected him to either ignore her or flirt back, but neither happens.  The man snaps a harsh glare to her, body tensing even further.  “I love seeing you in action, sweetheart,” she whispers and then slaps his rear.  She dances away just as he surges forward, fists clenched.  Ennis rushes forward and puts a hand on the man’s chest, restraining him.

 

“Not now, Hale.  We’ve got bigger problems.”

 

“Yeah, I heard.  Argents’ at the gate,” Derek retorts.  He’d said their name with such hate that it has her heart racing and she quickly follows Kate, who’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

 

“Who is he?” she whispers.  Her aunt smiles and the expression sends a shiver up Allison’s spine.

 

“That’s Derek Hale – vampyre, warrior…” she trails off, waiting for the man to look at her again.  “He’s my good boy, aren’t you, baby?”

 

The man’s chest rises and falls rapidly and he tries to push passed Ennis.

 

“Hale, I swear if you leave this post I will beat you down myself.  Kate will be the least of your worries,” Ennis snarls.  Derek freezes instantly and backs away until he’s standing in his previous position.  He clasps his hands behind his back and stands at attention once again.  “Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Derek replies.  Though he complied, Allison doesn’t miss the glare he throws Ennis as the man turns his back.  When he glances at her, she quickly spins around and follows her aunt out the front door.  The minute she steps outside, she can hear a man shouting – her father.

 

“You cannot hold her here!” he yells.

 

“As I’ve explained before, we are not holding her captive,” the man at the gate responds.

 

“Then let me see her!”

 

“As soon as you’re cleared, you’ll be allowed in.”  The Warrior remained calm, but was an obvious immovable force.  Her father looked disheveled and slightly panicked.  Allison has never seen him like that – then again she’s never been in immediate danger before.  Her mother, predictably, looks furious but in complete control of herself.  Allison’s stomach tightens with nerves.  This was going to be so bad.

 

She wants to rush to her dad, but Kate holds her back.

 

“Trust me, you wanna wait until they’ve calmed down,” she murmurs.  Allison watches as the Priestess serenely approaches the gate.

 

“Hello, Chris.  How’ve you been?” Jennifer asks, surprising her.  The man glares at her and crosses his arms.

 

“Where is my daughter?” he asks lowly.

 

“I assure you, she is safe.  Now, if you’ll remain calm, I will open the gate.  We will speak out here, not inside.  I’m sure you can understand why,” she replies.  Her father hesitates, but eventually nods in agreement.  Jenny waves for the Warrior – Allison can’t remember his name – to open the iron gate.  The slow creak it elicits is unnerving and makes her fidget.  Her parents walk stiffly towards the woman and her Warrior, eyes flitting over the place.  She knows what they’re doing – looking for other vampyres and exits in case this goes south.

 

“I demand to know why you have her,” her father says.

 

“She came here of her own free will,” Jenny replies.

 

“Why would she _ever_ come here?  She knows what you are; she knows not to go near vampyres.”  Allison wraps her arms around herself.  He’s going to hate her.  There’s no way he’ll still love her once he see her Mark.

 

Jennifer’s eyes narrow.  “I’m sure you can guess why she’d come here.”

 

“Not possible,” her mother grits out.  The Priestess sighs and shakes her head at the other woman.

 

“See for yourself,” she says.  “Allison, you can come out now.”  On shaking legs, she moves towards her parents.  A lump forms in her throat, but she refuses to cry.  Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.  Like she said earlier, she’s still their little girl.  When she steps fully into view, her father’s jaw drops in shock.  Allison clenches her hands tighter together.  Her mother’s eyes have widened to a frightening degree, but her mouth is in a grim line.

 

“Allison?” her father breathes.

 

“Yeah, dad, it’s me,” she says.  She curses her voice for wobbling.  He puts his fist over his mouth and stares for a long time.  She looks to her mother, not being able to keep watching him.  “Mom…?” she tries.  The woman shakes her head at her.

 

“What have you done, Allison?”

 

“What?  I…I didn’t do anything.  It just happened,” she stutters.  Her mother glares at her before turning back to Jenny.

 

“Thank you for explaining the situation.  We’ll be leaving now.  There’s nothing here for us,” she says.  Allison’s chest seizes as her mother turns her back and walks away.

 

“Mom, please don’t go,” she calls.  Victoria Argent turns back at the last moment, her eyes so cold that Allison’s vision blurs.

 

“You’re not Allison.  My daughter is dead.”

 

Something breaks inside her and tears spill down her cheeks.  She turns to her father, shaking from head to foot.

 

“Daddy?” she asks, her voice cracking.  His eyes are suspiciously bright and he’s still got a hand over his mouth as they stare at each other.  “Daddy, I’m still Allison, I’m still your little girl.  Please don’t leave me,” she cries.  He makes a choked sound and lowers his head, rubbing across his brow.  “We can make this work, dad,” she says hopefully.  Her father scoffs and lifts his head, his arms falling listlessly to his sides.

 

“I…I was supposed to protect you,” he says with a helpless shrug.  Allison takes a step toward him and her chest aches when he backs away.

 

“Dad, you did.  I’m right here in front of you and I’m fine, I swear.”

 

“Allison, you’re a goddamn vampyre!” he shouts.  “How is that _fine_?!”

 

A small sob escapes her, but she doesn’t let it stop her.  “We can _make_ it fine, dad.  You just have to give me a chance,” she says.  He stares at her, his eyes still wet.  “Please?” she asks, chin trembling.  They stand, eyes connected, for a long time.  He’ll cave, she knows it.

 

Allison holds her breath.

 

The man looks away, tears falling from his eyes.  “I’m sorry,” he mutters.  Allison’s entire body feels numb as she watches him turn away.

 

“Daddy, don’t,” she pleads quietly.  He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even look back.  With shaking shoulders, her father walks out the gate and out of her life.  A horrible pain pounds through her chest and it’s the only thing she can feel.  She can hear herself sobbing, but she doesn’t feel it.  Someone puts a hand on her shoulder and when she looks up, she finds it to be Kate.

 

“This may suck right now, but trust me, you’re better off without them,” she says.  It only makes her cry harder.  She’s 16 – how can she be better off without her parents?  They raised her; they told her they loved her every day.  How can they just abandon her?  She still loved them – she was still Allison Argent.  Why couldn’t they see that?

 

The High Priestess comes to stand in front of her and gently strokes her hair from her face.

 

“I told you to be strong, fledgling.  You have a whole new life waiting for you.  This is an exciting time for you,” she says.  Allison stares at her.  She doesn’t _want_ a new life.  She liked her life the way it was.  Exciting?  How can she say that?  Her entire life just imploded on itself.  “ _We_ are your family now,” the woman adds.  Another wave of sorrow crashes over her.  She didn’t even know these people – these _vampyres_.  Allison had never felt more alone in her entire life than she did at that moment.

 

_You are not alone, my daughter_.

 

Allison hiccups, startled by the voice.

 

_I will always be with you._

 

She takes deep breaths, trying to understand.  The voice had drifted through her mind like a gentle breeze.  Whoever it was sounded kind – understanding.  She looks around for the source.  At first she thinks she’s gone crazy, but then she sees a lone ray of sunlight beaming down on a statue standing in front of a small marble building.  It’s a beautiful woman with her hands raised, as if she’s communing with the very sky above her.

 

With a start of surprise, she realizes this must be their Goddess.  Could that have been the voice she heard?  Is that possible?

 

Allison turns back to Jenny, who’s looking at her strangely.  “Who is that?  What is that building?  Can I go in there?” she asks rapidly.  Clearly caught off guard, Jennifer stutters for a moment, unsure of how to answer.

 

“That’s the Goddess Nyx and her temple,” she answers slowly.  “You may go in there to pray if you wish,” she adds, brows furrowed.

 

“Thank you,” she says.  Allison quickly leaves them, wanting to be inside that temple that Nyx guards so fiercely.  When she reaches the statue, she stares in awe at her beauty.  The young fledgling doesn’t linger for long and rushes into the temple.  She finds it dimly lit by candles, creating a homey atmosphere.  There’s another statue of the Goddess, but this time she’s sitting with her legs crossed and her head thrown back towards the sky.  Allison approaches slowly and sits with her back against the marble altar, pulling her legs against herself.

 

“Are you here?” she asks.  There’s no answer, but she doesn’t really need one.  She _knows_ this is the woman she heard.  As she sits by the Goddess, she thinks maybe – just maybe – her new life won’t be so awful.  Nyx had chosen her to be one of her children.  This powerful deity had seen something special in her and claimed her.  It was actually a comforting thought, knowing she’ll be watching out for her.

 

Allison spends hours by Nyx, eventually falling asleep by her side.

 

**

 

The young girl is woken by someone shaking her shoulder.  She bolts upright and quickly wipes her face where drool had fallen.

 

“Are you alright, fledgling?” a woman asks.  Allison looks up to find a very pretty, dark-skinned vampyre staring down at her.  There’s something different about her, but she can’t place it.

 

“I’m fine,” she replies quietly.  The woman helps her to her feet.

 

“Are you the Argent girl?” she asks.  Allison sighs, but nods.  The vampyre smiles at her.  “You’re very brave to have come here on your own.  Such bravery is admirable – especially in someone so young,” she says.  A tiny warmth grows inside her at the compliment.  She was the first truly nice vampyre she’s met.  Jenny hadn’t been totally awful, but she hadn’t been exactly kind or helpful either.  As for her aunt – she didn’t know what to make of her yet.

 

“I’m Allison, by the way,” she says.

 

“Merry meet, Allison,” the woman replies.  She grasps her forearm, prompting Allison to do the same.  “I am Braeden, the Red High Priestess at this House of Night.”

 

“That’s what’s different!  Your tattoo!” she blurts.  The woman huffs in amusement and nods.

 

“Yes, I’m a Red Vampyre.  We’re a new strain of vampyre.  You’ll learn all about it in your classes,” she says.

 

“Oh…classes.  I’d almost forgot,” she admits.

 

“Jenny will have your class schedule.  Do you think you can find her office on your own?”

 

Allison wants to ask Braeden to stay with her, but remembering where she is, she keeps quiet.  The woman probably came in here to pray, or maybe just for some peace and quiet.

 

“I think so.  Thank you for your help,” she says.

 

“I’ll always be around if you need me, Allison,” is her reply.  She then glides towards the statue and bows her head in silent prayer.  Allison can’t help the tiny smile.  Hopefully she’ll get to spend more time with the Red High Priestess.

 

She makes her way back out into the courtyard, surprised to find it to be nighttime already.  By the moon’s placement in the sky it’s probably around midnight.  Looking around the campus, there are lots of students bustling around.  Allison recognizes it as the in-between class shuffle.  At least _something_ is normal around here.  She quickly crosses the courtyard towards the front doors.  Eyes follow her as she goes and the other fledglings whisper as she passes by.

 

Looks like this is going to be worse than the normal new-kid hell.

 

It’s not any different when she enters the school.  Kids stare, but she pays them no attention.  This was going to be like any other school – except maybe twice as bad.  But this was something she could handle.  She just hoped a few of them would give her a chance – it’d be nice to have some actual friends for once.  Allison walks through the foyer and goes to the right, travelling down the long hallway.  She remembered that Jennifer’s office had been on the first floor, towards the back.

 

The halls are just as crowded as a human high school, which is surprisingly reassuring and not claustrophobic.  There’s grand cursive writing marking this hallway as the ‘East Wing’.  She perks up when she finds a door with the word ‘Offices’ above it.  Going through, she sees the familiar smaller hallway with lots of closed doors.  Jennifer’s office – just like her bedroom – had been the one all the way at the end.  It was the only one with huge double doors, so at least it was easy to find.

 

Allison knocks firmly and hears Jennifer welcome her in.

 

“Oh, Allison, there you are.  Are you alright?  I was worried,” Jenny says as she enters.  Something in her tone makes her think she wasn’t really all that worried – that she was simply saying what she knew was expected.

 

“Yes, I’m fine.  I fell asleep in the temple.”

 

Jenny nods and puts down the sandwich she’d been eating.  She gestures for Allison to take a seat, which she reluctantly does.

 

“Since it’s your first day here, you won’t have to attend classes yet, but by tomorrow I expect you to begin adjusting,” she says.  “Normally I would leave your roommate in charge of giving you a tour and explaining your class schedule, but she successfully made the change a few days before you arrived.”

 

“Successfully?” Allison asks.

 

“Yes, it’s an unfortunate truth that not all fledglings change into adult vampyres.  For unknown reasons, some reject the change.  This could happen to any one of you at any time, so if you’re ever feeling ill tell your mentor, another professor, or the House Doctor, okay?”

 

Allison nods, not able to form words.  So, it might not even matter that she was around adult vampyres?  She didn’t realize death was such a large possibility for fledglings.

 

“Wait, my mentor?” she asks.

 

“All fledglings are eventually chosen by an adult vampyre to help guide them through this difficult time.  Your Aunt Kate has already chosen you,” she says.  A small frown formed as she said it, making Allison worry.  She’d hoped perhaps that Red Vampyre from earlier could be her mentor, but Aunt Kate was good too.  At least it was someone she already knew.  “A mentor is the person you’ll go to if you need help – whether it be with school, personal problems, or questions about the transition you’re in.”  Allison bit her lip at the explanation.  Aunt Kate wasn’t the most nurturing, so she’s not sure how often she’ll go to the woman with her problems.  “Now since your roommate is no longer here, you’ll have your room to yourself until another female is Marked.  Also, since she’s gone, your Aunt Kate will be giving you the tour and your schedule.  You can find her in the Professor Dining Room down the hall,” she concludes.  She actually gives a little shooing gesture and then returns to her sandwich.  Well, so much for getting to know her High Priestess.

 

Allison leaves and closes the door softly behind her.  The only noise in this section of the school is coming from what must obviously be the dining room.  She tentatively pushes open the swinging door.  There were at least a dozen vampyres lounging around and eating lunch as they chatted.  It was still strange for her to be calling it ‘lunch’ even though it was passed midnight.

 

“Allison!”

 

Aunt Kate waves her over, where she’s sitting with three male vampyres.  Two of them were horribly unattractive for vampyres – only one had blue markings, the others red.  Allison wonders how many red ones are at this school.  By the way Braeden had described herself as a ‘new strain’ she figured they weren’t very common.  Speaking of the Red High Priestess, she was sitting on the other side of the room by the windows, with an older vampyre – who was watching Allison’s every move.  The girl quickly looks away and crosses the room to her aunt.

 

“I made a plate for you, kid.  There’s always a stocked buffet in here,” Kate says, pushing out a chair for her.

 

“Oh, thanks,” she mumbles.  She actually _was_ pretty hungry and – oh gosh – they were eating meatloaf; her favorite!  Allison is immensely happy to find that the meat was medium cooked and not rare.  That’s something she’s been avoiding thinking about.  Vampyres drink blood to survive, don’t they?  Well, she knows she sure as hell doesn’t have a craving for it – maybe that comes later.

 

“Allison, these are Professors Harris, William, and Marco.  Guys, this is my niece,” Kate introduces.

 

“Merry meet, Allison,” Professor Marco says, giving her a nod.  It would have been friendly if she hadn’t caught him glancing at her chest.  She quietly greets them all and focuses on her food.  Harris and Barrow had simply grunted hellos – the latter also leering at her.  This was beyond uncomfortable.  At least Harris seemed completely uninterested – and grumpy, definitely grumpy.  His eyes either remained on his food…or (grossly) stared at her aunt for way too long.  She’s starting to get the feeling that her aunt runs with a rougher crowd.

 

Allison peers behind her at the Red High Priestess, who’s watching their table with a worried frown.  The guy she’s sitting with is still staring at her.  What was his problem?

 

“After you’re finished, I’ll give you a quick tour and show you the dorms, but I have to be back in the classroom by 1,” Kate says.  Allison perks up, seeing an opportunity to learn more about her.

 

“What do you teach?” she asks.

 

“Vampyre Sociology 101.  That’ll be your first hour class actually, when you begin, that is,” she replies.  Allison was a little surprised to be honest.  She figured her aunt would be like…a scary gym teacher or something.  “In fact, here’s your schedule.”  She hands over a folded slip of paper.  Opening, Allison reads what vamp school is going to consist of.

 

Allison Argent, Entering Third Former – January 1, 2011

 

1st hour – Vampyre Sociology 101. Rm. W11.  Prof. Kate

2nd hour – Drama 101.  Rm. E4.  Prof. Deucalion

                                    _Or_

                        Sketching 101. Rm. E8. Prof. Harris

                                    _Or_

                        Intro to Music.  Rm. E19. Prof. Satomi

3rd hour – Lit 101. Rm. S8. Prof. Hale

4th hour – Fencing.  Gymnasium.  Prof. Marco

LUNCH BREAK

5th hour – French 101.  Rm. N13. Prof. Morrell

                                    _Or_

                        Economics 101. Rm. N2. Prof. Finstock

                                    _Or_

                        Human History 101. Rm. W2. Prof. K. Yukimura

6th hour – Intro to Tae Kwon Do.  Gymnasium.  Prof. Noshiko

                                    _Or_

                        Intro to Equestrian Studies.  Field House.  Prof. Kali

 

“Wow…that’s, uh, not what I expected,” she mutters.  It actually sounded kind of interesting - much more physical than a human high school.  At her old school, there was just Phys. Ed and the teacher really didn’t care if you participated or not.

 

“It’s best to keep the fledglings active – better chance of them not dying,” Kate says with a shrug.  She spoke of it like it was nothing – like it happened all the time.  Allison hoped that wasn’t the case.  “Anyway, finish that last bite and I’ll show you around,” Kate says, waving at her plate.  Allison mopped up some ketchup with her meatloaf and shoveled it in quickly.  The food was quite tasty – nowhere near the disaster at her old school.

 

“Done,” she announces.

 

‘Awesome.  Let’s get to it,” Kate says and gracefully gets to her feet.  She gives a little wave to the men at her table as she sashays away.  “Later, boys,” she calls.  Allison is slightly shocked at the behavior – especially when each of them shares toothy smiles afterward.  It was kind of nauseating to be honest.

 

“Um, Aunt Kate?” she asks, jogging to keep up with her.

 

“Yeah, hon?”

 

“Are you…I mean, with those guys…it just kind of seemed…” she stutters.  Allison trails off as her aunt just stares at her.  It’s super fucking awkward for a minute, but then Kate snorts and keeps walking.

 

“Please, like I’d let any of them touch me,” she retorts, laughter continuing down the hall.  Allison nods to herself because she should have expected an answer like that.  They were definitely different people.  Well, Allison would never go near those guys either – therefore there would definitely be no flirting.  Super gross.  Kate slows by the restrooms and leans against the wall with her arms crossed.  “No, I just like to tease.  Watch this,” she says, nodding towards the men’s door.  Allison stands a little ways away, nervous for whatever’s about to happen.

 

The door swings open and that attractive young Warrior – Derek, she thinks – from this afternoon emerges.  He startles when he sees Kate – who’s grinning from ear to ear.

 

“Like clockwork, Derek,” she says.  Her aunt leans in close, her body merely an inch from his.  “Maybe I could join you next time, baby,” she purrs.  The man visibly takes a deep breath and tries to walk around her, but she places a restraining hand on his chest.  “What’s the matter, sweetheart, don’t you wanna play?”

 

Allison gasps as the man snatches Kate’s hand and shoves her against the wall.

 

“Don’t.  Touch.  Me,” he snarls.

 

Kate laughs.  “Oh, I like it when you get rough,” she says with a sigh.  “You wanna pin me down?  I could be into that.”  She closes the space between them and whispers right in his ear – though Allison isn’t standing far enough away to _not_ hear.  “Or maybe we should reverse those roles...just like old times, right sweetie?”

 

“Keep talking.  Give me an excuse to kill you,” he grits out.  Crap, should she do something?  This couldn’t be there foreplay could it?  This Derek guy really seems to hate her.  His threat, however, only makes her aunt laugh again.

 

“What’s going on here?” someone asks.  It’s another female vampyre – her arms are crossed and her bronze skin practically glows with power.  The sapphire tattoo rises up and then crashes around her brows in tsunami like waves.  She definitely had a no-nonsense attitude about her.  “Derek, you should be on patrol.  Do I need to call Ennis?” she asks.  The Warrior takes a deep breath before backing out of Kate’s space.  He fixes his leather jacket and then turns to the other woman.

 

“No, everything is fine.  Thank you for your concern,” he replies.  Allison grimaces at the robotic tone to his voice.  The young man then walks stiffly away, his fists still clenched.  The woman watches him go and then turns narrowed eyes on Kate.

 

“I believe you were giving your niece a tour.  Perhaps that should continue,” she says.  Allison was impressed by her calm fierceness.  Her aunt snorts, fixes her rumpled shirt, and sways passed her.

 

“How’s _Duke_ today?” she asks with a smirk.  Allison has no idea what that means, but it has the other woman bristling.  Kate walks away laughing and her niece hesitantly follows her.

 

“One day,” the woman calls after her.  “He _will_ fight back.”  The comment has her aunt slowly turning around, head tilted.

 

“Oh, Derek’s a good boy.  He knows better,” she says.  The young fledgling watches the two women with interest.  It doesn’t seem like Aunt Kate has made very many friends here.

 

The other woman huffs in false amusement.  “You keep thinking that.  But when he _does_ turn on you, don’t expect any of us to come to your aide.”  With that, the woman spins around, re-enters her classroom and slams the door.

 

Allison is biting her nail as she looks to Kate.  Her aunt seems annoyed, but that’s about it.  She glances at the fledgling and frowns.

 

“Don’t bite your nails.  It’s a disgusting habit.”

 

The girl scowls and drops her hand back to her side.  She silently follows her aunt to the end of the hall.

 

“The hall we just came down only has two classrooms, plus 2 bathrooms as you could see.  The vampyre that interrupted us is the French professor – which is your 5th hour class I believe.  Have fun with that,” she says.  Allison doesn’t comment, not wanting to start an argument.  She actually really likes learning French and besides that woman didn’t seem all that bad – a little strict maybe, but Kate was kind of out of line back there.  “This hallway also leads to the gymnasium and library,” she explains.  “Speaking of, I had them set up a little archery area in there for you to practice.  I read that article about you a few years back.  National champion – impressive,” she says with a wink.  Allison can’t tell if that was an actual compliment or not.  Though, the fact that Kate actually kept tabs on her is nice.  Maybe after Allison gets to know her a little more, they might get along – again, that’s a maybe.

 

They take a left and Allison sees that this hallway has many more classrooms than the last.

 

“This is the West Wing – the hallways are all labeled, by the way – where all the fun Vampyre classes are held.  Vamp Sociology 101 and 415, plus Human History.  At the end is the kitchen and dining hall.”

 

Allison picks up the pace to keep up with her.  “Another left and we have the South Wing, where you’ll find English classes such as Poetry and Lit 101 – you’ll _love_ Lit 101, the professor is another delicious Hale Vampyre.”  The girl nods along, but really couldn’t care less about that.  As long as that scary Warrior Hale wasn’t teaching it, she was happy.  “And as you can see this corridor is cut in half by the foyer, plus the grand staircase that leads to the second floor.”  They stop in the foyer and Kate points out one of the windows.  “That large building over there is the horse stables.  I’m not a huge horse fan, unless I need a getaway ride and don’t have a car,” she says.  Allison gapes at her.

 

Kate snorts and pats her arm.  “I’m kidding, hon,” she says.  “Mostly,” she adds with another head tilt.  “Anyway, there are also riding trails and a general sports field outside, but you can see those later.  Follow me.”  She follows the woman up the stairs and they stop again.  “This door,” she says, pointing to another set of doubles.  “Is the common area.  It’s where the fledglings mingle and whatnot.”

 

Allison nods and before she can even peak inside, Kate’s moving again.  “To your left are the boy’s dorms and the right are the girl’s.  There’s a 5 am curfew, but no one really enforces it,” she says with a shrug.  Allison will bet 20 bucks that’s a lie.  Her aunt seems the type to only follow the rules when they suit her.  Unlike the downstairs hallways, there were _many_ doors on each side up here.  There had to be at least a dozen rooms in this corridor alone.  As they pass, she reads some of the names – though only half the doors actually have names.

 

“Are all these rooms taken?” she asks.

 

“No, at least half of them are empty – and yet _Jenny_ still enforces the roommate rule.  She believes in the ‘buddy system’,” Kate says, air quoting.  Allison once again doesn’t comment.  In a school this big, the buddy system was probably a good idea.  “Why are they empty, you might ask.  Well, Beacon Hills isn’t exactly the top House of Night in California.  It’s mostly here for when the big city houses run out of space.”

 

Allison frowns at that.  She actually prefers small schools and towns to the bigger cities.  People tended to be nicer, at least.  Though she’s starting to think Beacon Hills might be different.  When they take another left, Allison quickly realizes that the school was built as a long rectangle.  Thinking of it that way makes it much less confusing.

 

“Now, this is the last hallway to show you.  It’s the Professor dorms, plus the Warrior barracks at the very end,” she says.  Kate glances at her watch.  “I’ve got five minutes to get to my classroom, so I trust you can find your own room now that you know where the dorms are.  Good luck, kid,” she says.  Her aunt pecks her on the cheek and then prances back down the hall.  Allison sighs and returns to where the girl’s dormitories are.

 

She reads the names as she goes – Smith/Johnson, empty, Jones/Brown, empty, empty, empty, Moore/Taylor, Anderson/Thomas, Jackson/Clark, empty, empty…

 

“Argent,” she reads finally.  It was the room closest to the staircase, at the end (front/beginning?) of the hall.  She quietly opens the door and slips inside.  It was dimly lit by sconces as was the rest of the school and it was bare except for a bed next to the window.  The walls were painted a pleasant peach color and the floor was the same bright wood as the outside hallway.  Allison leaves the door open to let in more light and then opens the window for fresh air.

 

The empty room has her seriously missing her old room.  It wasn’t anything special – most of her things were even still in boxes from the last move they made.  But it was still home – and this just…wasn’t.  Allison plops down on the bed and takes her phone out of her jeans.

 

Wood creaks to her left, making her jump.  Allison gapes slightly at who’s lingering in the hall – just creeping around her open doorway.

 

“Um…hello?” she offers.  The man gives her a stiff nod and his face is pinched like he _really_ doesn’t wanna be there talking to her.

 

“Do you need anything?” he asks gruffly.  Allison fish-mouths for a minute, not knowing how to answer.  The warrior sighs.  “I was patrolling the hall and saw your door open.  Thought I’d at least check in,” he grumbles.

 

“Oh…um, I’m fine,” she stutters.  He nods in relief and begins to walk away.  “Wait!” she calls.  He pauses and glances back at her.  “You’re Derek, right?”

 

He bristles at the question, but she isn’t sure why.  “Yes.”

 

“I’m Allison,” she says.  “Just in case you, uh, were wondering,” she mutters.  He raises a confused brow and then turns to leave again.  “Wait!”  With a heavy sigh, he turns to her fully this time.

 

“Yes, fledgling?” he prompts.  Okay, the attitude wasn’t necessary, but if he hate’s her aunt, she can understand – sort of.

 

“I was just wondering…I mean, I didn’t bring anything with me and…well, how does that work?  Do I get to shop for new stuff or…?” she asks.

 

Derek – looking utterly annoyed – clasps his hands in front of him and seems to choose his words carefully.  She wonders if he’s trying not to tell her to fuck off – he seems the type to do that often.

 

“The normal protocol would be for your parents or other relatives to bring your possessions here.”

 

“Oh,” Allison mumbles.  Yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen.  But maybe she could try?  Her dad may have walked away, but she could always try again.  She’s always been a big believer in second chances.  Allison sits back down on her bed and fingers her phone, contemplating.  “Thanks, Derek,” she adds distractedly, waving in his general direction.

 

“You’re welcome, fledgling,” he replies.  The response surprises her into looking up, but he’s already gone.  Huh, she wouldn’t have pegged him for someone with manners.  Maybe next time he’ll even use her actual name.  Allison snorts at herself and then looks back at her phone.

 

“Might as well try,” she mutters.  She dials her father’s cell (avoiding the home phone and her mother at all costs) and holds her breath as it rings once, twice, three times…

 

“Hello?”

 

“Dad?” she blurts happily.  He sighs heavily, dampening her excitement somewhat.

 

“What is it, Allison?” he asks.  She bites her lip, wondering how to do this.

 

“Um…well, I was wondering – hoping, really – that you might bring me some of my stuff.  You know, from my room?  I guess that’s how it usually happens.  I mean, if you don’t wanna drive out here…I guess, you could send it in the mail?  I would understand…” she says, trailing off.  She really _wouldn’t – doesn’t_ – understand, but she’s trying to be civil here.

 

Her father sighs again.  “I’m sorry, Allison.  Your mother…she, uh, got rid of most of your stuff.”

 

“What?” she shrieks.  She’s not been gone _one_ day and her mother is acting like she never existed already.  “How?  Why?”

 

“You know why.  You heard what she said,” he answers.

 

“Yeah, that I’m _dead_ to her.  Am I _dead_ to you, dad?” she asks, almost yelling.  She couldn’t help it.  If she didn’t get angry, she would cry again and she was _sick_ of crying.  Her father doesn’t answer for a long time, the only noise their breathing.

 

“Please don’t call here again,” he mumbles, voice cracking.  She hears a click and stares at her phone in shock.  Heat rises to her cheeks and she tosses the damn phone at the wall.  It hits with a satisfying clack and falls to the floor, smashing into multiple pieces.  She doesn’t even care that it broke.  It was just another piece of her old life – which she’s slowly coming to hate with every passing minute.  Allison picks up the pieces – three large – and hurls each one at the same wall.  She continues for a few minutes until she’s calm enough to simply stare at the mess she’s made.

 

Boots stomp down the hall towards her – running at a steady pace.  She looks up, her chin pillowed in her hands, elbows on her knees, to see Derek come to a halt outside her door.  He scans the room, making her raise a brow.

 

“Are you hurt?  I heard a commotion,” he says.  He looks her over, but it’s not creepy like those professors from earlier.  That’s something at least.

 

“I’m gonna need a new phone,” she mumbles disinterestedly.  The man looks to the floor and some emotion she isn’t sure of flickers across his expression.

 

“I see,” he replies.  Glancing around, he seems to realize that he’s actually _entered_ her room and quickly retreats to the hall.  Allison would laugh if she didn’t think it’d set him off.  “Is there anything I can do?” he asks.  It was professional again – which she actually appreciated.

 

She sighs and thinks.  “What happens if a fledgling’s family doesn’t give a shit and won’t bring her belongings?” she asks bluntly.  Derek’s brow ticks, but she doesn’t know what that means either.  She’s beginning to understand that he may not say much, but if she were to study his face, she’d hear everything he wasn’t saying.  Problem is, she isn’t that interested.  As long as he’s civil to her, it’s good enough.

 

“The High Priestess will schedule an off-campus shopping trip,” he says.

 

“Really?” she asks hopefully.

 

“Yes.  All professors remain in their offices until 3:30 in case fledglings need help with assignments.  You can ask her then.”

 

“Oh, okay.  Thanks again,” she answers.  She only receives a nod this time, but figures it’s still good enough.  Not wanting to just sit in her room, she wanders down the hall.  She stops at the set of doors that Kate said led to the common area and pushes her way in.  Her eyes widen at what she finds.  Besides it being totally empty of kids (right, classes are still in session), it has tons of activities set up.  A big flat screen is hooked up to a game console and there are two cabinets full of movies and games.  That area is surrounded by an overstuffed couch, bean bags, and giant floor pillows.  It looks cozy.

 

There’s also a small wooden stage near the windows with a karaoke machine, a few guitars, keyboard, and a violin.  It’s clearly for those musically talented; therefore Allison will be avoiding it.  In the left corner is a card table with card decks stacked in the middle.  On the opposite side, there are multiple game tables – billiards, foosball, even a dart board hung up.  The only space left is filled with what she assumes is an arts and crafts table.  The cabinet behind it is filled with all kinds of pencils, brushes, and paint jars.

 

Going further into the room, she lets the door close and finds another cabinet to her right filled with board games.  It’s like a giant play room.  No wonder the other kids love this room.  Allison plops herself down on the sofa and grabs the remote.  Flipping through the channels, she finds a Walking Dead Marathon playing and cuddles up with a pillow to watch.

 

Three hours later, she’s peering over the top of her pillow as the characters try to drag a Walker out of a well.  Suffice to say, it does not work and guts and organs splash into the water, making Allison cringe.

 

“Oh, that’s so gross, why do I watch this?” she mumbles to herself.  “For Glenn and Daryl, that’s why,” she answers herself.  She really needs to stop talking to herself.

 

Just as it goes to commercial, the double doors burst open and a swarm of fledglings’ barges into the room.  They spread out, chatting and making a total ruckus.  Someone grabs the remote out of her hand and then jumps over the back of the couch to land opposite her.  A boy – that figures.

 

“Uh, _hello_ – I was watching that,” she says, glaring at him.  The boy slowly turns to her, brow raising just as slow.  He was clearly Korean (she thinks) with dyed platinum blonde hair and dark brown eyes.  A black jacket covered a loose black tee and it all matched nicely with his black jeans and converses.

 

“And now you’re not,” he replies.  Allison scoffs.  She was thinking he was semi-attractive until he opened his mouth.

 

“There’s a Walking Dead Marathon on.  It wasn’t over, so give that back,” she demands.  She holds off on name-calling, not wanting to sound any more child-like than she already did.

 

“Yeah, well there’s a True Blood Marathon on too.  Sorry not sorry, but vampires trump zombies every day of the week,” he retorts.

 

“What the fuck does that matter?  I was just sitting here, minding my own business when you just-”

 

The guy rolls his eyes and waves at her to supposedly shut her up.  He snaps his fingers at one of the other boys.

 

“Bes, deal with this,” he orders, pointing in her general direction.  Allison gapes at him in disbelief.  A short red head trudges over and towers over her with his arms crossed.

 

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” he says.

 

“Excuse me?” she asks, voice cold.  The red haired boy fidgets under her glare, but doesn’t apologize or back away.

 

“You’ve upset him.  You have to leave,” he replies.  Allison crosses her arms and looks back to the blonde guy, who’s smirking at her.

 

“You don’t _own_ this room.  I’m not going anywhere,” she retorts.  Mr. Tough Guy snorts and rests his arms along the back of the couch, with one landing behind her.

 

“Well, if you really wanna stay, we’re gonna need to cuddle,” he says, lowering his voice.  Allison immediately punches him in the arm – hard.  He splutters and jolts away from her.  “The fuck, girl?” he shouts.  Before Allison can reply, she’s interrupted by the click clack of heels.

 

A tall blonde with pretty blue eyes stomps up to the couch and stares down at her almost disinterestedly.  She’s got a leather purse draped over her arm, the bright pink matching nicely with her extremely fashionable outfit.  Allison appreciated her taste in clothes.

 

“What is this?” she asks, pointing at Allison and glancing at the blonde guy.  “She’s in my seat,” she tells him.  Allison rolls her eyes – so much for admiring her fashion sense.  The boy hasn’t stopped glaring at her since she punched him.  The obnoxious blonde turns to her, blue eyes narrowed.  “You’re in my seat.”

 

“I didn’t see a name on it,” she retorts.  The girl tilts her head, seemingly surprised.

 

“Who are you?  I don’t recognize you.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Allison stands and holds out her hand.  “I’m Allison and you are?” she asks politely.  The other girl doesn’t take her offered gesture, but nods in understanding.  A fake smile spreads across her face and she points her perfectly manicured finger at her.  “ _You’re_ the girl that caused the lockdown and made me get up early.”  Allison drops her hand.  Okay, so much for pleasantries.  Two more blondes suddenly come out of nowhere, flanking the first one.

 

“We heard you went crazy and tried to kill someone,” the one to the left says.  Her voice was high and squeaky with a hint of clueless in it.

 

“No, you idiot, it was her parents.  They’re total psychos,” the one to the right says.  Allison does a double take on her, recognizing her as the girl from the hallway – the one that called her a newbie, but gave a friendly wave.  Allison glares at her and she surprisingly looks to the floor nervously.

 

Allison decides to go with the rumors, seeing as how these girls were clearly not gonna be friendly.

 

“What you heard was true, ladies,” she says with a sweet smile.  “I come from a family of true psychos.  You sure you wanna mess with me?” she asks, trying to channel some of the crazy she saw in Kate.  Unfortunately, the first blonde only smirks and takes a step toward her.

 

“You have no idea who I am, honey, so you might wanna check the attitude,” she says.  Allison scowls back and crosses her arms.  No way was she gonna cave to some stuck up bitch.

 

“You wanna fight, then let’s do it, _honey_ ,” she retorts.

 

The girl’s smile widens and she leans in close.  “Why get my hands dirty when I have _men_ to do it for me?” she whispers.  Then with a snap of her fingers, says “Apophis, Horus – take her out.”

 

Before she can even react, the blonde Asian jumps to his feet and grabs her roughly by the left arm.  A tall brown-haired boy grabs her other arm and together they lift her off her feet and drag her over the sofa.  She kicks her feet, trying to jab a knee or groin, but they’re much stronger than her.  They throw her to the floor and her face explodes in pain as a fist connects with her jaw.

 

The blonde one grabs her by the chin and forces her face in his direction.  “That was for hitting me, little girl,” he snarls.  While he’s distracted by being all macho-man, she slams a foot into his knee and he goes down in a cry of agony.  Allison hastily gets to her feet, but the other boy grabs her around the waist and drags her back down.  He flips her over and all she can see are slate gray eyes half covered by a mop of brown hair.  The kid pins her arms to the floor, a feral grin on his face.

 

“Well aren’t you cute.  Ever been with a boy?” he asks with a laugh.  Allison tries to buck him off, but he’s too heavy.

 

A brunette in the corner stomps over to them.  “For fucks sake, Horus, get off her.”

 

“Awe, babe, I was only kiddin’.  You know you’re the prettiest one here,” he says, smiling at her.  She rolls her eyes and then grabs his ear in a vice grip.  Horus squeaks like a mouse and rises at her command.

 

“Have you all lost your damn minds?” she shouts.  Allison catches her breath and thanks Nyx that one of these girls isn’t a hateful bitch.  “She’s Argent’s niece.  Do you really want Kate on our asses?” she asks.  The two boys instantly back away from her and two of the blondes gape at her.  The first blonde simply raises a brow and frowns.

 

“Fine,” she says.  “She’s been punished enough.  Let her go,” she orders with a dismissive wave.  Before she can get up, the brunette that stopped the fight looms over her – getting in her face.

 

“I just saved your life, girl.  You _owe_ me.  Remember that,” she hisses and then stomps away.  So much for her _not_ being a hateful bitch.  Not risking another attack, Allison jumps to her feet and races out the door.  She runs down the hall, to the bathrooms she saw earlier that day.  Quickly ducking inside, she goes to the mirror to inspect the damage.  There’s already a bruise forming along her left jaw and it’s tender to the touch.

 

“Damn it,” she breathes.  Allison leans against the sink to catch her breath.  This was so not what she was expecting.  There were always bullies at every school that thought they could pick on the new girl and she wouldn’t fight back, but this was the first time it had escalated to an honest to god (goddess?) brawl.  However, it wasn’t the first time she’d had a fist to the face.  No, her mother’s training consisted of a lot of those – which was the main reason Allison quit.

 

Sighing heavily, she emerges from the bathroom – checking that it’s clear first – and makes her way towards the main staircase.  She was gonna need ice if she didn’t want it to swell too much – which she most certainly did not.  It wasn’t that difficult to find the fledgling dining hall on the first floor or sneak into the kitchen and raid the freezer.  After wrapping some ice in a paper towel, she finally takes a breath and thinks about what the fuck just happened.

 

She didn’t even know these people and they attacked her over _nothing_.  So she argued about the remote and sat in some rich girl’s seat.  Was that _seriously_ what she just got punched over?  Well no, she got punched because that blonde guy was a total dick.  He deserved the first punch.  This wasn’t her fucking fault.  They had just been total psychos.  Allison huffs at the irony and hisses when it pulls at her bruise.

 

Allison will admit, she was scared.  Nothing like that has ever happened to her before.  But when she’s scared, she gets pissed – and when she’s pissed she shoots arrows.  Throwing the ice back into the sink, she stomps out of the kitchen and towards where she remembers the gymnasium to be.  Fledglings stare and whisper as she goes by, but they were already doing that, so she ignores them.  It was about 4:30 in the morning, so most of them were either in the dining hall, in their rooms, or up in that fucking common area.  Well fuck them, they can have it if it meant that much to them.

 

Allison scans the small storage unit she’s found, picking up a steady wooden bow and a quiver full of arrows.  She stomps towards the gym and slams her way through the doors.  It’s empty except for a man by the back wall.  Allison almost stops when she sees that it’s Derek, but there’d be no point in telling him – it’s not like he doesn’t hate her too.  She steals a few glances, noticing that he’s worked up a sweat, his muscles working hard.  He’s wielding a large sword, slashing at an entire circle of dummies.  Cloth rips from them and flutters to the floor, taking the sand inside with it.

 

Shaking her head, she focuses on facing the targets that Kate put up for her.  She pulls out an arrow, notches it, breathes in, breathes out, and lets it fly.  It hits dead center, a perfect bull’s eye.  At first she’s only thinking of letting off steam and hitting her mark, but soon enough it’s that rich girl’s face in her targets; Apophis’ hands strapped to the target; Horus’s mouth waiting for an arrow.  She shoots again, again, and again, until she reaches back and finds she’s out of arrows.

 

Still outraged, she stomps over and pulls them out and places them back in her quiver.  Allison takes her stance again and shoots.  How could they treat her like that?  Like she was worthless, like she was beneath them?  What made them so fucking special?  They were nothing – petty little nothing’s who just wanted someone to beat on.  She’s been beat on enough – she wasn’t gonna fucking take it from them too.

 

Allison reloads and breathes.  She knew all vampyres weren’t like them, but it really enforced everything her parents taught her.  They were bloodthirsty monsters – out of control creatures that needed to be stopped.  But what made her any better than that?  She was one of them now.  She was a monster too.  Her mother could see it, so why couldn’t Allison?  The target becomes her mother and she shoots.  The one person who was supposed to love her _no matter what_ just fucking abandoned her.  Well, if she could declare Allison dead, then why couldn’t Allison do the same?  Her mother was a fucking bitch and she deserved better.  She was a good person damnit, she didn’t deserve any of this.

 

Allison reloads and breathes.  And her father – he was totally spineless, just going along with her mother like that.  He said he loved her and yet he just threw her away.  Like she never mattered, like she was nothing.  Am I nothing?  Am I becoming nothing just like those kids?  They were monsters, she was a monster, her _parents_ were monsters.  And she was trapped here in this school with all these vampyres – with these people who called her _family_ , but didn’t know the first thing about her.  Then there was Kate – what a fucking psycho she turned out to be.

 

Allison reloads and breathes.  Am I just like her?  Nyx marked both of us.  Maybe the Goddess only marks crazy people.  No, that can’t be true.  The Goddess had been kind to her.  Hadn’t she?  Was she twisting that into what she wanted it to be?  Maybe she imagined the whole thing.  Maybe she’s trapped in a horrible fucking nightmare and needs to wake up.

 

Wake up, Allison.

 

Wake up!

 

“Fledgling!”

 

She pulls back the string, finds the voice and lets it fly.  When she blinks, she sees that she missed – the first time in she doesn’t know how long.  She only missed because Derek had ducked.  He quickly gets back to his feet and glares at her.  Allison lowers the bow and is surprised to feel herself shaking.  She’s out of breath and sweating, her arms and hands sore.  Derek’s expression loses some of its intensity and he slowly approaches her.  She tenses when he reaches a hand out.  He tries to take her bow, but her hands won’t release it.  Why is she shaking so badly?

 

“Let go,” he says calmly.  She looks him over and he, too, is sweating and slightly out of breath.  How long have they been in here?  It had to be passed curfew by now.  Derek tugs on the bow again and she slowly pries her fingers from it.  When finally out of reach, he quickly places it on the floor and takes another step closer.  He reaches out and nudges her chin towards the light.  “What happened?” he asks.

 

His touch makes her uncomfortable – claustrophobic.  It’s too soon after what happened.

 

“Nothing, I’m fine – stop it,” she adds, pushing his hand away.  Her hands are still trembling and she can’t seem to catch her breath.  She rubs the back of her neck and shakes her head.  “I – I should go…it…I mean, I should go to sleep,” she stutters.

 

Derek reaches out a hand to stop her, but thinks better of it.  “You won’t be able to sleep like this,” he says.

 

“What?” she asks, looking back.

 

“Your body’s flooded with adrenaline.  You need to calm down or you’ll just lay in bed awake all day,” he says.

 

“Okay…what do you suggest?” she asks hesitantly.  If this was a sex thing she was gonna punch him – warrior or not.

 

“There’s a jogging trail outside,” he replies.  “Follow me.”  The answer surprises her and she finds herself agreeing.  Derek leads her outside, into the pre-dawn light.  He doesn’t say anything else, just starts jogging along a path through the woods.  She follows him and at first she’s just like a duckling – blindly following him through the trees.  Then her thoughts wander.

 

Her parents were fucking hypocrites.  They called vampyres monsters, but what were they?  She’s seen them do _terrible_ things and explain it away as justice.  Justice for what?  She doesn’t even know why they became hunters in the first place.  Something about her grandfather – who she’s never even met.

 

They lied to her.  Every day they lied to her.  They told her they loved her, but you don’t turn your back on someone you love.  She didn’t choose to be Marked.  She didn’t choose any of this.  Allison just can’t understand how they could abandon her like that.  She could’ve never done that if the situations were reversed.  It was so easy for her mother.  Maybe she never even wanted her.  After all, she resented the fact that Allison didn’t want to be some super soldier just like her.  She talked back, she argued, she disobeyed – no wonder her mother wanted to get rid of her.  The woman already got rid of her stuff.  She was out of the house a measly 12 hours and it’s like she never existed.

 

Allison runs and runs, her lungs burning and her muscles cramping.  She pushes through it.  This was fucked up – her _life_ was fucked up.  Well, no more.  She was done with being the one people always trampled on, the one they so easily left behind.  If she was so forgettable, then why bother with people?  From now on, she’d do what _she_ wanted; live her life the way _she_ wanted.  No more mom punishing her for not fighting hard enough, no more dad giving her useless apologies; she was done being a victim – a victim of her parents, of these other kids, of herself.

 

She was done.  No more weak Allison.

 

The girl stops and rests her hands on her knees, breathing hard.  Derek skids to a stop next to her, out of breath, but nowhere near as tired as her.  Either that or he was just good at hiding it.

 

When she feels like she’s not gonna pass out, she straightens.  Derek glances at her – away from the sun he was apparently watching rise over the hills.  Allison wouldn’t have pegged him for a sunrise guy either.

 

“I’m done,” she pants.  He nods and starts back the way they came, but he most likely has no idea what she meant.  They jog in silence, their breathing and the noise of feet pounding the ground the only sounds.  It was calming – soothing even.  After having gotten herself worked up with her arrows, the run was like a cool down – a really _long_ cool down.  But she felt better than when she started.  She was still angry, but it wasn’t burning a hole through her chest anymore.  Allison actually watches the trees go by this time, more fully appreciating the view.  She can see that this must be a routine for Derek, with how effortlessly he follows the barely visible trail.  She wonders if this is how he deals with his own anger – which she’s seen only glimpses of she’s sure.  Allison doesn’t know much about him, so she doesn’t know if he’s always been like this or was made this way, but she thinks maybe he’s not so bad after all.

 

Allison isn’t naïve enough to call him a friend – but she was confident he wasn’t an enemy.

 

When they reach the campus again, he actually looks tired now.  She can’t blame him – she’s practically dead on her feet.  Entering the gymnasium, she’s surprised at the mess the two of them made.  Her target is almost split in half, the arrows having hit and splintered each other as well.  Derek’s side looks like a bomb went off.  All the dummies are completely destroyed, shredded with their sand fillings poured out all over the floor.

 

“The gym is always open if you need to cool down,” Derek mutters.  Allison nods, glad that he’s still being civil.  “I’ll let Ennis know we need more arrows,” he adds, pointing at her mess.

 

She snorts and says – a little sheepishly – “Yeah, guess I went a little overboard.”

 

“Happens,” Derek mumbles with a shrug.  Allison glances at the dummies and then back at him.  She nods in understanding and can’t help wondering what he’d been thinking about.  She has a feeling she doesn’t really want to know.  “I’ll clean this up.  You should get some sleep – it’s passed curfew.”

 

Allison hesitates, slightly guilty over the mess she’s leaving him.  She lets it go though, figuring if she offers to help, it’ll destroy their semi-peaceful bubble.  With a nod, she leaves him to it.

 

She pauses at the door and glances back.  “Thanks again, Derek,” she says.  He looks up and stares for a minute.  Figuring he won’t respond, she turns to leave.

 

Halfway out the door, she hears a quiet, “You’re welcome, Allison.”

 

**

 

She makes it back to her room with no problems, which is probably because it’s well passed curfew.  Slipping inside, she quietly shuts the door and lets out a heavy sigh.  Later tonight she would start her new classes.  What was she gonna wear?  Allison thumps her head on the back of the door.

 

“Meeewwwurrrff.”

 

The disgruntled noise has her immediately snapping her eyes open and scanning the room.  Bright blue irises stare back at her and she feels her breath stutter.

 

“Master!” she squeals.

 

The Mekong Bobtail flops around on her pillow, getting himself nice and cozy before blinking at her lazily.  Allison rushes to the bed, picks him up, and crushes him to her chest tightly.  He lets her hold him, loud purring vibrating against her skin.

 

“Oh my gosh, did you follow me here?  Are you crazy?  You could’ve died!” she exclaims.  The cat simply meows at her and snuggles in closer.  She giggles as he rubs his face all along her neck.

 

In her happy daze she catches a glimpse of paper on her nightstand.  Picking it up, she reads the delicate writing.

 

_Hey kid,_

_Took some time to buy you a new wardrobe – don’t worry, you’ll look fabulous!  Looking forward to having you in my class tomorrow_ _J_

_-Kate_

_P.S. Cute familiar!_

There’s a small notecard next to it and she reads that also.

 

_Familiar – a spirit guide that chooses to help navigate you through life._

_A familiar comes in the shape of an animal – most often a cat – and will have a strong connection to the Vampyre they choose.  They feel what we feel and will often protect us when in need – and vice versa.  The animal does not belong to their Vampyre, but the Vampyre belongs to the familiar._

“Huh,” she grunts thoughtfully.  Allison holds up her cat and peers into his pretty eyes.  They stare at each other for a long time and then he sneezes in her face.  She huffs and places him back on her pillow.  “So, you’re gonna protect me?” she asks him.  Master rubs along her side and lies down with a heavy breath.  He was fairly old, so she wasn’t convinced about that protection part.  She’d gotten him when she was only 3 – or rather she found him shivering under their porch in the dead of winter.  Allison squints at him and rubs a hand over his back.  “Or did you find me?” she asks quietly, mostly to herself.

 

Shaking her head, she focuses back on the first note.  She cautiously looks to her closet, worried of what she’ll find in there.  If there were ridiculously tight dresses or skirts, she was gonna chuck it all out the window.  When she finally convinces herself to pull open the doors, she blinks in surprise.  As far as she can tell, the clothes were actually appropriate – a mix of stylish and simple.  Pulling out one of the jackets, she holds it up to the light to see better.  It was simple leather, but with some kind of silver spiral labyrinth over where her heart would be.

 

Allison wonders what it means as she rifles through the rest of her closet, finding it on almost every shirt or jacket.  Maybe it’s the school symbol?  She doesn’t remember seeing it on anything else though.  Too tired to worry about it, she searches for a pair of pajamas.  The first thing she pulled out – to her embarrassment – was a sexy pink negligee, all smooth and silky.  Heat rises to her cheeks and she quickly puts it back.  Why would she wear that?  It’s not like she has anyone to show it off for.  Just the thought of it is making her nervous.

 

After rummaging through the closet some more, she finally finds a soft, light blue, cotton pair.  It’s so much like a set she has at home – _used to have_ – that tears spring to her eyes.  Allison quickly sniffs and pushes the thoughts away as she dresses.  The only things left are to set her alarm for 6 pm – which was seriously very odd – cuddle up with Master, and hopefully get some sleep.

 

It was a fitful, nightmare-filled, sleep unfortunately.

 

**

 

The next day only brought more awkwardness.  The only upside was the box of Apple Jacks she found stuffed in the back of the pantry.  Clearly they weren’t terribly popular, but they’d always been her favorite.  She glanced cautiously around the cafeteria – or dining hall as they called it here – and tried to find a friendly face.

 

Everyone she made eye contact with either hastily looked away or glared so fierce it made the hair on her arms stand on end.  Allison sighs, holds her head high, and marches to a semi-empty table.  She gently places her tray down and sits.  The other fledglings stare wide-eyed, mouths agape.  They look to each other nervously before abruptly getting up and moving to another table.  She looks to her bowl of cereal instead of watching the room.

 

This was by far the worst ‘new-kid’ experience she’s ever had.  She hadn’t even started classes yet and all the other kids hated her already.  When her eyes prickled, she didn’t let the tears fall.  She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.  The pretty blondes from yesterday are a few tables away, but they pay her no attention.  Allison likes it better that way.  Invisible is better than beaten.

 

A soft chime rings in the distance and students quickly shuffle towards the exit.  It must have been the bell obviously.  She feels a little naked with no backpack of any kind, but she’s noticed hardly any students _do_ carry them.  Pulling out her schedule, she walks into the hallway and looks around.  She tries to think of her tour yesterday, but it’s much different with kids bustling through the halls.  Her first class – Kate’s class – is in the West Wing.  Thankfully it seems she’s already there, given the cursive labeling on the walls.  Turning to her right, she makes her way quickly towards the front.

 

Once she finds it, she quietly slips inside amongst a large group of other fledglings.  She’s relieved when she doesn’t see any of the kids from yesterday’s fight.  The girls that’d moved away from her in the dining hall are there, but they’ve secluded themselves into the corner.  She picks a seat in the middle, not wanting to draw attention to herself.  Naturally, it doesn’t work.

 

All eyes are on her, but not _one_ of these kids says anything.  No insults, no questions – just round, scared eyes and flopped open mouths.  Did she smear her make-up horribly or something?  This couldn’t just be about her parents.  Then again, after how Jennifer and the Warriors reacted – maybe she’s underestimated how violent her family has been.  Allison doesn’t slide down in her seat or duck her head in shame.  Maybe it was good that they feared her.  At least she knew these ones wouldn’t attack her.

 

Their attention is finally drawn away when Kate saunters into the room wearing a tight black tank, dark blue jeans, and black boots.  It was simply stylish, if a little revealing.  Her hair was down in gentle waves and Allison couldn’t help staring at her tattoos.  They were quite violent and had a shiver running up her spine.  She noticed the other kids were either fidgeting nervously or staring much too closely at her top.  Allison wanted to roll her eyes, but didn’t.

 

She hopped up on her desk, her legs crossing as she leaned back and stared at them.

 

“As you all know, we have a new student today,” she begins.  Allison immediately frowns, not wanting to be in the spotlight.  “Yes, she is my niece, and no she won’t kill you,” Kate says with a low chuckle.  The fledglings giggle nervously in response.  “You,” she says, pointing to a scrawny dark-haired boy.  “Show her where the textbooks are.”  The kid quickly obeys the order and Allison follows him to the back.

 

“This is your cabinet,” he mutters, pointing.  “We keep all our stuff here instead of hall lockers.”

 

“They’re like little cubbies,” she says, trying to be friendly.  The kid’s mouth pinches and he pushes up his glasses as he glares.

 

“They’re cabinets,” he grumbles before returning to his seat.  She nods – to herself obviously –grabs a textbook, notebook, and a few pens before sitting as well.

 

“Now, who can tell me what last night’s reading was about?” Kate asks.  Several hands went up, including that kid with the glasses.  Kate nods towards a petite blonde in the front row.

 

“It was all about the Change and how it affects fledglings – such as physical, mental, and magical changes.  The hardest thing for us to accept is that not all of us will complete the change.  Only 4 out of every 10 fledglings will become vampyres.  You know, I actually think these textbooks need to be updated,” she says with a flick of her hair.  “There are no chapters on the possibility of a second change – as in the resurrection of a blue fledgling into a red fledgling.  It’s happened multiple times now-”

 

“Yeah because that Priestess did something to them,” the scrawny kid interjects fiercely.

 

“You don’t know that for sure,” the blonde retorts.

 

“What if Nyx is the one resurrecting them?” a girl way in the back asks loudly.  Kate snorts, but doesn’t interrupt the students arguments.

 

“That would be against free will.  The goddess _can’t_ intercede,” the boy says and then pushes up his glasses again.

 

“I’m sure if the fledgling had proven his/her worth, then Nyx would have no problem bringing them back,” the blonde says.  They glare at each other and the argument has the other students bickering back and forth.

 

Allison tentatively raises her hand.  Her aunt’s brows shoot up in surprise.  “You have a question, Allison?” she asks.  The room immediately goes silent – and she means _dead_ _silent_ – as everyone’s eyes shoot to her.

 

“Um, I was just wondering _why_ so many fledglings die,” she admits.  In her mind, it was a fair question, but several of her classmates roll their eyes – like they’ve already been through this.  She remembers Jennifer saying for ‘unknown reasons’ but a second opinion is always nice to have.

 

“That’s actually a good question,” Kate says.  “To be honest, no one seems to know why some fledglings reject the change and others don’t.  There are factors that make death a higher chance – such as malnutrition, lack of exercise, and distance from adult vampyres.  There are other rare occurrences as well, but I want each of you to write them down – anything that you can think of, or even just a guess.  Also, if you know of a fledgling that has rejected the change, feel free to write about that experience.  If not, write down the fears you have – whether minor or major – about what you’ll be facing in the next four years,” she says.  She writes the assignment out on the board before turning back to Allison.  “You can write down your fears as well, but I don’t expect you to give any guess about the Change until you’ve done the reading.  I want you to read Chapters 1 & 2 for homework and _then_ write down your own guess as well as answer the textbook questions,” she explains.  Allison nods and opens her notebook.  “We’ll spend the rest of the hour writing.  As for everyone else’s homework assignments, I want you to read Chapter 2 and answer the questions.”

 

With that, Kate flops down into her desk chair and fiddles with her phone.  Allison stares at her blank page.  She was supposed to write down her fears, but all her life she was told _not_ to show fear – to anyone.  If she writes it down for Kate to read, she’ll be giving her an opening and she’s not sure she’s ready for that.  Allison slowly raises her hand again.  It takes a few minutes for Kate to look away from her phone long enough and notice her.

 

“What’s up?” she asks.  The unprofessional question almost makes her snort, but she holds it back.

 

“Are you going to read these?” she asks.  Kate tilts her head curiously.

 

“Do you not want me to?”

 

Her voice was low, more challenging than questioning.  They lock eyes for an uncomfortably long time and Allison only sees Kate’s shell harden further.  She’s supposed to be her mentor – her aunt – but she’s really not sending out any compassionate or positive vibes.

 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” she answers honestly.  Her classmates are all stiff with tension.  Kate blinks slowly, as if not understanding.

 

“Why not?”

 

Allison resists the urge to bite her lip.  “It just seems a little private is all,” she replies.  Kate huffs in amusement and taps her nails along the desk.

 

“I’m your mentor, Allison.  You of all people can trust me.  Whatever you write will only be seen and read by me,” she says.  She almost blurts out that she doesn’t trust her, but clamps her mouth shut.  Kate glares, as if she heard it anyway.  “You either write the assignment like everyone else, or take a zero.  It’s your choice.”  She then returns to her phone, obviously done with the conversation.  Allison opens her mouth to argue-

 

_Choose your battles wisely._

Allison hiccups and the words she was about to spew vanish from her mind.  It was that voice again – _Her_ voice.  She thinks about the message and then glances back at her aunt.  The Goddess may have a point about this.  After all, she could just lie about her fears – it’s not like Kate would even know.  After that realization, she quickly picks up her pen and scribbles out some answers.

 

Fears I have about the 4 years of the Change:

  1. Grades

  2. Fitting in

  3. Can I still go to college?

  4. Dating?

  5. Family




That last one was probably the most personal – and maybe number 2, but the others were purposefully vague.  Allison stares at the list for a while, before flipping to the very last page in her notebook.  She wrote the list for Kate, but she was gonna write a real one for herself.

 

Fears

  1. Fledglings

  2. Not making friends

  3. Never seeing dad (or mom?) again

  4. Aunt Kate being the psycho dad says she is

  5. Not completing the change

  6. Classes – grades?

  7. Dating I guess

  8. College

  9. Not being able to leave campus ever

  10. Blood drinking – seriously, is that a thing?

  11. Being a complete moron

  12. Apophis and Horus

  13. The 3 blondes

  14. Horus’ girlfriend

  15. Getting killed

  16. Bes maybe?

  17. Warrior Ennis – I think

  18. Jennifer?

  19. Derek Hale?




Allison’s hand is shaking by the time she’s finished, prompting her to take a steadying breath.  She had way more fears than she thought and there’s a good chance the list is only going to get longer.  That quiet little bell chimes again, signaling the end of first period.  Allison placed the textbook back in the cubby – _cabinet_ – and handed in her assignment.

 

“Allison, wait,” Kate says, grabbing her arm.  Her grip was a tad too firm, but Allison didn’t pull away.  Her aunt waited for the room to clear before speaking.  “I didn’t mean to be so harsh earlier.  I just don’t want the other fledglings to think I’m giving you special treatment.  By the look of your jaw, I can tell you’ve already run into some trouble.  I’m not gonna ask who or what happened, but if you want to confide in me you can.”  Her expression was so open and honest, but Allison was still wary.

 

“Thanks, Aunt Kate,” she mumbles.  The woman nods once and then releases her arm.  She hastily makes her way into the hall, rubbing the circulation back into her skin.  It was probably gonna bruise, but what else was new?  Sighing, she takes out her schedule again and looks around.  She could choose between Drama, Sketching, and Music for her next class.  There was no way she was performing on a stage and Shakespeare might as well be a foreign language, so Drama was out.  She’s heard the horror of her own singing voice, let alone the destruction she causes with an instrument – so Sketching 101 it is.  The professor is that male red vampyre she met yesterday – the one that wouldn’t look away from Kate’s breasts.

 

 

Allison hurriedly picks up her pace, needing to get to the other side of the school.  Walking through the foyer, she catches a glimpse of a muscled back clad in a tight leather jacket before the man walks out the front door.  Curious, she slows to peer out the front windows.  Derek is probably on patrol or something and is heading for the stables.  She idly wonders how his morning is going and then shakes the thought away.  They weren’t friends, they were barely acquaintances.  Just because he’d been nice to her yesterday, didn’t mean he didn’t hate her.

 

She quickly rips herself from the window, but not before she sees the High Priestess – Jennifer, that is – gliding across the lawn.  Allison is once again shocked at how a simple wardrobe change can alter her entire demeanor.  Yesterday she went from sexy vampyre to woman-in-charge within 10 minutes.  Now, she looked innocent and happy, as if she was about to start frolicking through the damn flowers.  She was wearing a thin black dress and black pumps – her hair down in gentle waves and face done up with little make-up.  The woman looked not only younger, but as unthreatening as Allison had ever seen.  She continued across the lawn and towards the stables, watching the young Warrior as he gently stroked a horse that was tied up outside.

 

Allison caught the mischievous grin on the Priestess’ face and fully turns from the window this time.  Whatever was about to happen wasn’t her business.  She wasn’t stupid – she knew what a look like that meant.  As she walks to her second class, she wonders if Derek is sleeping with her or if it’s more unwanted advances.

 

Loud chattering grabs her attention as she enters the room.  Unlike her first class, the fledglings in here are mingling and being fairly obnoxious.  _This_ is what a room full of teenagers should sound like.  Allison sighs in relief and takes a seat at one of the easels.  There weren’t many actual tables, only a stool in front of each easel.  It had a relaxed feel to it, which she appreciated.

 

The calm feeling abruptly ended when the door slammed.

 

“Quiet down, quiet down,” Professor Harris mutters.  He strides to the front of the room and dumps a stack of small sketchpads onto the desk.  “First of all, I want all my third formers on the left side of the room and my fourth formers on the right.  I trust I don’t need to explain left from right to anyone,” he grumbles.  Allison quickly shuffles to the other side of the room.  She catches a glimpse of that scary/helpful brunette – Horus’ girlfriend she’s assuming – crossing over with the fourth formers.  The girl makes eye contact, sneers, and then looks away again.  Allison holds in a sigh.

 

She ends up sitting in a corner by herself, the other third formers avoiding her just like the ones this morning.  It was getting old already.

 

Professor Harris goes about setting up two separate tables in the middle of the room.  He mutters to himself as he works, making sure each object is aligned to his liking.  Allison focuses on his sapphire tattoos.  They’re clustered tightly along his forehead and then branch out into what she believes is the atom symbol.  She was always terrible at science though, so she could be wrong.

 

The man nods to himself and then turns to them all with a scowl.

 

“Now, I want the fourth formers to focus on the table with the glass of water.  Sketch what you see – don’t forget to shade for the lighting,” he says, pointing to the lamp.  He’d set a simple, full glass of water on a rickety table and then shone a light on it.  It didn’t seem too terribly difficult, but she was definitely a beginner – so, really, what did she know?  “As for the third formers, I want you to sketch the old pair of shoes.  Again, _do not forget the shading_.  You see how there’s dark and light – certain areas like the laces and holes are going to be darker.  Therefore…?” he trails off, waiting for someone to answer.  The younger fledglings all look at each other, Allison included.  Professor Harris sighs at them.  “Therefore you would use your H – or hard – pencils for sketching and your B pencils for shading.  I doubt any of you will be any good, so I won’t get my hopes up.”

 

Allison fidgets nervously and looks over the array of pencils next to her easel.  Maybe since his standards would already be low, she wouldn’t seem to suck as much.

 

“I’ll be scanning the room to gage your progress.  If anyone needs help, _please_ hesitate to ask,” he grumbles.  He then pauses and looks to the scary brunette.  “Except for you, of course.  Feel free to ask anything you like, Heket,” he says with a broad grin.  The girl – Heket, apparently – smiles and bats her eyelashes at him.  Allison cringes and looks to her sketchpad.  First of all, that was just gross.  Second of all, what the hell was up with these names?  She obviously hadn’t learned them all, but so far there was Apophis, Horus, and Heket.  Again, what the hell?

 

Allison shakes her head and looks through the different pencils.  She tests them all on a separate sheet, seeing which ones made the shades she needed before getting to work.  It’s easy to lose herself in this, eyes darting back and forth – nothing but her and the pencil.  She’s eventually brought out of her daze when Harris finally leaves his desk.  He begins circling the room, scowling as he checks on their work.

 

“What you’ve done to that paper is a disgrace, fledgling,” he mutters, shaking his head.  The kid just scowls at him and continues drawing.  The next drawing just receives a deep sigh and the one after that, Harris stops and glares at the student.  “Does that look like a glass of water to you?”

 

“Um…sort of?”

 

Harris doesn’t respond, just keeps walking the circle.  When he reaches Heket’s easel, a tiny, barely there, smile forms on his face.

 

“Now _that_ , my dear, is pure talent,” he says.  She beams at him and then flips her hair as she continues.  Allison kind of wants to scream about it, but it wouldn’t do her any good.  The small smile immediately drops again as he gets to the next sketch.  He looks down his nose at the small girl, who sheepishly ducks her head.  “You should really just stop.  There’s no way to fix it,” he sniffs.  The poor girl obediently puts down her pencil and struggles not to cry.

 

Harris stops between the next two boys, comparing their sketches.

 

“ _You_ have greatly improved.  I’m quite impressed,” he says.  The fledgling smiles a bit, but barely looks away from his work.  His luscious red hair is gelled up nicely, his dark green eyes alive with passion as he draws.  He was quite attractive to be honest.  “As for _you_ ,” Harris continues with a sigh.  “Still much too dark and heavy handed.  Try not to let your lack of soul reflect in your artwork,” he grumbles.  The boy sighs sharply, but ignores him.  His bright blue eyes threatened to pull her in.  There was something haunting about his expression that made her look away.

 

Honestly, Allison still can’t believe Harris talks to his students like this.  If this were a human high school, someone would’ve complained by now.  She cringes as he nears her easel and she quickly looks back to her drawing.  It wasn’t _too_ bad – maybe a little unsteady in places, or could use more shading, or maybe _less_ shading.  Oh, who is she kidding?  It’s _terrible_.  He’s so gonna-

 

“Huh,” Harris mutters.  Allison freezes, her pencil still over the paper.  “Not bad, but not good either,” he says.  With that, he swiftly moves on to the next student.  Allison sighs in relief.  She gazes at her drawing, actually pretty pleased with herself.  She glances to her left to see how the next girl fares.  “What is this?” Harris grumbles.  The girl sulks, making him scoff.

 

He gives the rest only a cursory glance before returning to his desk.

 

“Seems I only have one star this year, as usual,” he says, nodding towards Heket.  “Though I have three others that…show promise,” he mumbles.  He glances to the two boys – both the one he complimented and the one he insulted – and then shockingly towards her.  Allison does her best not to gape.  A small smile tries to make its way across her face, but abruptly stops when she notices the glare she’s getting.  Heket is practically seething across the aisle and Allison can’t help but bat her lashes, taunting her.  The girl’s eyes narrow further.

 

That strange soft bell chimes, but Harris speaks over it.

 

“Your homework assignment is to simply draw something meaningful to you.  It can be anything you like,” he announces.  Allison instantly becomes frazzled as the students rush around the room, returning their supplies.  She copies the girl next to her – folding up her pad, gathering the pencils, and placing them in a cubby – _cabinet_.  There’s surprisingly already one with her name on it, just as there had been in her first class.  She wonders how that’s possible, considering she hadn’t even decided which class to choose until after first hour.  There’s also an extra pad with pencils marked ‘homework’.  She finds it kind of funny that they still call it that, considering she technically _is_ home.

 

Before Heket can corner her, she slithers out the door and into the crowd.  Glancing at her schedule, she frowns slightly when realizing the next class is Lit 101.  Kate clearly had a thing for not only Derek, but Professor Hale as well.  She can’t imagine anyone related to Derek being a professor.  Biting her lip nervously, she makes her way around the corner and into the South Wing.  The room is at the end, having her shove her way passed slower students.

 

Allison pauses when she sees Derek enter the school with Jennifer right on his heels.

 

“See you fourth hour, Warrior Hale,” she says.  The man’s shoulders hunch further and he practically runs away from her.  So, the advances _weren’t_ wanted she’s guessing.  She tries to hurry into the classroom, but fails to be unnoticed.

 

“Allison,” Jennifer calls.  She glides closer, the fledglings bowing respectfully as she passes.  Allison fumbles for a moment, but eventually copies the movement.  The woman smiles prettily and nods in acceptance.  “How is your first day going?” she asks.

 

“Fine,” she mumbles.  She isn’t sure why, but Jennifer makes her nervous.  Allison’s never sure which Priestess she’ll get – calm and collected or demanding and furious.

 

“Glad to hear it.  Remember, if you have any questions, go to Kate,” she says tightly before walking away.  Allison definitely isn’t imagining the hatred between the two women.

 

Finally stepping into the room, she looks around, but doesn’t recognize anyone.  She can’t decide if that’s good or bad.  Taking a seat by the door, her breath catches when she realizes she _does_ recognize someone – the professor.  Hale is the man that’d been sitting with the Red High Priestess yesterday.  The one that wouldn’t stop staring at her – the one that’s _still_ staring at her.  This time, she _does_ sink into her seat somewhat.

 

When the fledglings are all settled, the man finally speaks.

 

“We have a new fledgling, I see,” he says.  “An _Argent_ no less,” he adds.  Her classmates are barely breathing, making her hold her own.  “It’s Allison, yes?”

 

She nods nervously.

 

“You’re a spitting image of your aunt,” he says.  His eyes travel over her, something dark crossing his face.  “Imagine that,” he murmurs.  A second later he snaps out of it and turn to the class.  The change in demeanor is disturbing.  He’s jovial and charismatic as he begins a lecture on the previous night’s reading.  As he paces up and down the rows, he gently places a book on her desk.  She smiles slightly as she finds it to be one she already read – George Orwell’s _1984_.

 

“Who remembers what the Party’s official slogan is?” he asks.  Allison raises her hand along with most of the fledglings, but the professor points to a grumpy girl on the other side of the room.

 

“War is Peace, Freedom is Slavery, Ignorance is Strength.”

 

“Yes, can you tell me why they chose this?” Hale asks.  The girl shrugs in boredom.  Multiple hands go up, including her own.  His eyes land on her, but quickly skid away and he nods to a curvy girl up front.

 

“It’s a way for the Party to weaken the mind of the individual.  It’s the first introduction to what they call ‘doublethink’,” she says, air quoting.  “It’s just a way to spread fear.  By breaking down the people’s independence, the Party can convince them of anything – for example, the Ministry of Peace is in charge of waging war, the Ministry of Love is in charge of Political torture, and the Ministry of Truth is in charge of changing the history books to fit their ideology-”

 

“Psychological control,” the equally curvy girl next to her chimes in.  Hale doesn’t seem surprised when she takes over – literally finishing the other girl’s explanation.  The first girl grins and listens intently.  “When they say ‘War is Peace’, the Party is giving the people of Oceania a common enemy – banding them all together.  ‘Freedom is Slavery’, according to the Party, means the man who is independent is doomed to fail…”

 

The girls’ rattle on, back and forth, about the slogan and Allison zones out.  She’s heard it all before and clearly these two were the type to monopolize the conversation.  A heavy set boy and two older girls chime in every now and then, but that’s about it.  Hale sits back, clearly pleased that his students are so involved in the discussion.  Looking around, she finds that she’s literally the _only one_ bored out of her mind.  Halfway into it, she gets up to use the bathroom.  She’d learned from her first two classes that it wasn’t necessary to ask – which was something that seriously needed to be improved in human schools.  It was awkward and embarrassing having to ask in front of anyone.

 

Then again, considering she’s about to take a leisurely ten minute walk, perhaps asking isn’t that overrated.  Allison strolls into the front lobby and peers out the window.  It was a foggy night, the small sconces flickering in and out of view.  When the light inside begins to dim as well, she quickly looks up.

 

The boy from her Sketching class – the one Harris accused of having no soul – saunters over and peers out the window with her.

 

“Bored already?” he asks.

 

She shrugs and turns to him.  “A bit.”  He nods and they stand in awkward silence.  The guy continues to stare at her, but his eyes don’t linger like most boys.

 

“What happened to your face?” he asks.  She frowns, having almost forgotten about the bruise.  The reminder has her taking an involuntary step away.  She didn’t know this kid.  What if he was with the others?

 

“Nothing.  I should get back to class,” she mutters.

 

“Wait,” he calls.  The fire in the sconces flickers and the shadows dance closely around him.  “I know I probably don’t have to tell you this, but I’d stay away from the common room.  It’s not a friendly place for newbies,” he says.

 

“Yeah, I got that,” she mumbles.  She turns to leave again, but he calls her back.  The shadows seem to squirm every time he raises his voice, making her stomach tighten with nerves.

 

“Just to be safe, I’d avoid the library and the sports field as well,” he says.  Then with a shrug, he continues down the hall.  The fires jump as he passes, making the darkness swallow him whole as he leaves.  Her own shadow looks twisted where it lies on the floor and she hastily retreats to the South Wing again.  Entering the classroom is a relief, even though they’re _still_ talking about that same damn passage.

 

In all the weirdness, she’d forgotten to ask his name.  If he knew about the common room, she’s thinking he’s probably right about the other places as well.  It seems ridiculous that that one clique has taken over so thoroughly, but she’s seen it happen at human schools too.

 

Professor Hale watches her leave after class, but doesn’t stop to talk – which she’s grateful for.  She’s curious about her next class – Fencing.  Allison honestly didn’t even know that was still a thing.  Entering the gym, she immediately sighs at her shitty luck.

 

“Oh, look out everyone, it’s the psycho,” the blonde chuckles.  Allison rolls her eyes and tries to walk by her.  “How’s your first day, newbie?  I’m a little shocked you’re still standing,” she taunts.  She shows her perfectly white teeth as she grins.  Suddenly the girl comes to her side and wraps an arm around her shoulders.  She points into the gym and says, “My baby will be so excited to have class with you.”  The blonde Asian waves at them from across the room.  A shudder involuntarily makes its way through her body.  “Awe, is the Psycho scared of little old Apo?” she asks with a laugh.  The girl then leans closer and whispers, “Good.  You should be.”

 

Allison spins and shoves her off – hard.  She stumbles, but catches herself on the wall.

 

“Help, help!” the girl shouts pathetically.  Heavy boots clomp towards them and a wicked grin spreads across the blonde’s face.  It vanishes the instant a Warrior – Derek, of course – rounds the corner.

 

“What’s going on?” he asks, eyes darting between them.  The blonde’s bottom lip quivers and she holds herself.

 

“She attacked me!” she practically cries.  The girl’s boyfriend – Apophis – comes running over, dark eyes on Allison.

 

“It’s true.  I saw the whole thing,” he says.  Derek sighs heavily and looks like he wants to roll his eyes, but doesn’t.

 

“Fledgling, apologize for your behavior,” he mutters, nodding towards the blonde.  Allison glares at him, but he isn’t fazed.  She turns to the other girl, jaw clenched.

 

“Sorry for pushing you,” she grumbles.  Derek nods, satisfied.

 

“That’s it?  That’s all you’re going to do?” Apophis demands.

 

“She’s a total psycho!  She should be kicked out,” the girl shouts.

 

Apophis grabs the Warrior’s shoulder and begins spluttering more protests.  Derek immediately wrenches the hand off and pushes the kid against the wall face first.

 

“Don’t _ever_ put your hands on me again, fledgling,” he snaps.  “Is that clear?”  The boy hastily nods and is released.  He scrambles back into the gym, essentially abandoning his girlfriend.  The blonde huffs at his back before turning an appreciative eye on Derek.

 

“I’m Isis, by the way.  Thanks for coming to my rescue, Warrior,” she says with a pretty smile.  Derek looks ill for a moment before his face goes blank again.

 

“Get to class.  Both of you,” he mutters.  Isis frowns as he turns his back on her.

 

“Say hi to Jenny for me, Derek,” she says.  Derek whips around with a harsh glare, but Isis simply giggles and sways down the hall.  The Warrior doesn’t stick around after – eyes staring holes into the floor as he goes.  Allison actually wishes he hadn’t left, considering who’s waiting for her in the gym.  They change in a small room – much nicer than a locker room – but she doesn’t recognize any of the other girls.

 

She’s greeted with mostly glares, but she ignores it.  It’s nothing new after all.

 

“Today, I will be pairing you up.  Third formers with fourth formers, fifth with sixth,” Professor Marco announces.  He starts rattling off names and Allison prays to Nyx for _something_ decent to happen today.  “Apophis, you’ll be showing Allison the ropes today.”  That really wasn’t helpful.

 

The guy grins at her and motions her to follow him.  She hesitantly obeys and he brings her to a wall with a bunch of swords on it.

 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he says, suddenly serious.  “These are not swords.  Foil, Epee, Sabre,” he adds, pointing to different weapons.  “ _You_ will be using a foil.  Before beginning, you need to suit up.”  He points to a white suit and helmet that she’s only seen on television.  It’s hot with the extra layers, but she isn’t going to complain in front of this guy.  Apophis looks scary fierce in the protective clothing and then turns down-right terrifying as he picks up an Epee.  “We’ll only be practicing form today – basically just exercising.  Think you can handle that?”

 

Allison scowls.  “No problem.”  He hands her a foil, which is surprisingly light in her grasp.  Apophis starts lunging with the Epee, slashing the air as he goes.  If he looked terrifying before, he’s lethal now.  She swallows her nerves and copies his movements.  After 15 minutes, her muscles are burning and she’s sweating.  It feels good after the day she’s had.  At some point her partner had stopped lunging and stood by to watch her.  He muttered something about her form being wrong and then came up behind her.  Allison tensed as his hands rested on her hips, his fingers tight against her.

 

“Shift to the left,” he says.  She obeys, lost for words.  The movement puts her closer against his body.  “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs.  His fingers crawl up her side and pause around her ribs.  “You know, my buddy Horus has a thing for you already.  I guess I can see why,” he says.  His fingers move further, teasing at the underwire of her bra.  “You’ve got a good body.  Nice and tight,” he mumbles.  Allison’s breaths are coming faster as he gropes her chest.  His body shields the view from the rest of the class, caging her in.  “But I like my girls’ blonde, like my Isis.  So I guess I’ll leave you for Horus,” he whispers.  A low chuckle follows it and she doesn’t know how long they stand there – his hands traveling along her body – until the bell finally chimes.  It pulls her out of her fear-haze and she pushes him off.  She throws her foil down and rips off her suit before running for the changing room.  The other girls stare at her, so she hides in one of the stalls.

 

Allison takes deep breaths, still not believing that just happened.  Why didn’t she stop him?  Why didn’t she yell for help?  She should have _done_ something.  She’s so fucking stupid.

 

The room empties within 10 minutes and she hesitantly leaves the safety of the stall.  She looks around, not really knowing what to do with herself.  Seeing the shower stalls, she quickly strips out of her sweaty clothes and jumps in.  The water is freezing, but it shocks her out of whatever daze she’d been in.  Allison stands under the stream for a long time, trying to get rid of the sensation of his fingers on her body.  It mostly works, though she’ll probably shower again after school is over.  She just didn’t feel _right_.

 

Allison’s fear slowly morphs to anger as she dresses.  She finger combs her hair and stares at herself in the mirror.  Her face was still bruised from where he’d punched her yesterday.  What the fuck did she do to deserve any of this?  Was she a mass murderer in a past life or something?

 

She can’t look at herself anymore and quickly leaves the room.  The only way she was going to be able to get through the rest of the day was if she shot something.  Allison storms into the supply room, grabs her bow and arrows, and heads back into the gym.  She comes to a halt just outside when voices reach her.

 

“I was sad to hear your left without saying goodbye.”  Allison peeks around the corner when she recognizes her aunt’s voice.  She’s circling around a bare-chested Derek, who’d obviously been working out.  The young girl watches worriedly – for both of them.

 

Derek doesn’t respond, simply stares at the punching bag in front of him.

 

“That hurt, Derek, it really did.”  When there’s still no response, Kate slides closer, but doesn’t touch him.  “I thought about you all the time,” she says.  Her eyes travel down his body as her tongue glides along her lip.  “Still do.”  Derek has barely moved – won’t even look at her.  Her aunt huffs in amusement and circle him again, her gaze zeroing in on his muscled back.  “You’ve grown up nicely, baby,” she purrs.

 

“What do you want?” Derek snaps finally.  Kate smirks, still behind him as she speaks.

 

“At the moment, I just want to give my condolences,” she says.  Derek glances to the left, but still doesn’t look directly at her.  “I heard about your sister,” she whispers in his ear.  He flinches, but doesn’t move away from her.  “Oh, Derek, I know – it’s terrible what happened.”

 

Kate reaches out and trails light fingertips down his naked back.  Smoke rises from where she touches, making Allison’s eyes widen.  The man’s jaw ticks and his eyes close.  Her aunt moves closer still, body right up against his as the smoke between their skin increases.

 

“You don’t really think she took her own life, do you?” Kate says with a laugh.  Derek’s chest moves rapidly as he breathes and Allison wonders if she should do something.  “But I’ll be honest with you.  _Her_ I never touched.”

 

Derek finally looks at her over his shoulder, brows drawn.

 

“You think I’m lying?”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he grits out.

 

Kate chuckles and swivels to stand in front of him, her fingers still trailing along his skin.  Allison squints, trying to see how she’s creating the smoke, but can’t see anything.  The two lock eyes and Kate’s grin spreads even wider.

 

“Oh, sweetie, you really don’t know _anything_ , do you?” she says with a sigh.  Her hands travel up his muscled chest until resting on his shoulders.  “I’ll admit, that would’ve settled my revenge.  But watching someone _else_ you trusted take her from you – that was priceless,” she whispers harshly.  Derek’s eyes are wide, his lips parted in fear.  The woman sighs happily as she drinks in his expression.  She finally takes her hands away, but he grabs onto her arm, not letting her leave.

 

“Who?  Who are you talking about?” he asks.

 

Kate smiles, takes his hand off her and threads their fingers together.  The action has Derek paling even further.

 

“If I told you, it would ruin all the fun,” she says.  Smoke once again rises from their joined hands.  “But I’m not against negotiation.”  Her free hand rises and rests over his navel – fingers scratching against his small trail.  The man scrunches his eyes shut as she toys with him.  “You give me what _I_ want and I’ll tell you everything,” she whispers.

 

This time Derek doesn’t let her pull him in – he rips free of her and turns his back.  Kate isn’t even fazed.  She turns on her heel and sashays towards the exit.

 

“I’ll give you time to think about it,” she calls back.  Before turning the corner, she glances back with a smirk.  “But don’t take too long, sweetheart.  You know I always get what I want.”  Then she’s striding out the door and passed Allison – who’s hidden in the storage room.  The girl watches her stroll down the hall, completely satisfied with herself.  The slow realization that her aunt was a complete psychopath hurts more than she thought it would.

 

Heavy grunts grab her attention and she cautiously makes her way into the gym.  Derek is slashing at another ring of dummies.  His body is tense, working his muscles harder than necessary.  It’s obvious that he doesn’t even know she’s there, so she crosses the room to her targets.  Most of her anger had dissipated, but after shooting a few arrows, it comes roaring back.

 

Something needed to be done about Apophis.  She didn’t know what exactly, but she knows she needs to take a stand against him.  If she doesn’t he’ll only keep targeting her – thinking it’s okay to put his hands on her.  She flings arrow after arrow, the satisfying thunks echoing around her.  Then there was that bitch Isis.  It’s clear that she runs things around here and that had to stop.

 

But her boyfriend – what he did – _he_ had to be her main focus.  She wouldn’t cower in fear, she wouldn’t be traumatized like Derek had been…

 

The thought has her arms trembling.  Her aunt was just like Apophis – touching what wasn’t hers, torturing some guy just because she could.  She had said something about revenge though.  Allison didn’t have the whole story – maybe Kate was the victim here.  The woman certainly didn’t _look_ like a victim, that’s for damn sure.  She looked strong and in control, like she knew she had all the cards and was just waiting to use them – just waiting to break Derek.

 

That look in his eyes when she touched him.  Did Allison have that same look earlier?  Or would she in the future if Apophis or Horus have their way?  She didn’t _want_ to look like that – like a victim.

 

Allison Argent is _not_ a victim.

 

Her last arrow splits a previous one and hits the bull’s eye.  She stares as it shakes and quivers.  It’s quiet around her; the only noise her heavy breathing.  The silence pulls her back, making her focus on the room.  Derek’s lying flat on his back in a pile of sand and cloth, his eyes closed as he breathes.  Allison retrieves her unbroken arrows and places them back in their quiver before cautiously making her way over.

 

Derek either doesn’t hear her approach or doesn’t care because he continues to lie with his eyes closed.  Her eyes travel over him, widening as they catch on what are obvious burn marks.  They’re first degree – something you’d get from a bad sunburn.  The marks course along his left side and down around his navel.  Allison gapes as she realizes what they’re from.  The smoke had appeared because Kate was _burning_ him – with her fingers.

 

“Are you okay?” she asks timidly.  Derek’s eyes flash open and he’s on his feet before she can blink.  The dim lighting catches on a silver blade in his tight grip.  She backs away, not even thinking to notch an arrow and aim.  They stare at each other – one scared and one…unsure.  Allison forces herself to relax as she takes in the obvious confusion on his face.  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says quietly.  He blinks a few times and then finally lowers the knife.  Silence reigns and he slowly loses the confusion, replacing it with a glare.

 

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”

 

“Probably,” she replies with a shrug.

 

“You missed lunch and fourth hour.  You should head to fifth before you miss that too.”

 

Allison nods and starts to walk away.

 

“Did something happen with Apophis?” he asks quietly.  She freezes, hand tightening around her bow.  The young fledgling looks back at him – takes in his somber face and the hard line of his mouth.

 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she replies.  Before he can offer his help or ask what happened, she retreats to the changing room.  She also wanted to leave before she asked something stupid – something about his history with her aunt.  Allison doesn’t need to be a genius to know how that would end.

 

**

 

Thankfully her last class was also in the gym, so she didn’t have far to go.  She didn’t see Derek when she emerged and he’d cleaned up both their messes – again.

 

Her last class of the day was Intro to Tae Kwon Do.  Allison dons the robe and belt left in her cabinet in the changing room.  She knew nothing of the art, so it was nerve wracking when she walked back into the gym.  Her nerves, however, calm slightly when soft music fills the silence.  It’s clearly some woodwind instrument, but she’s not sure what kind.  It plays from a small stereo set up by the wall.

 

Moving further into the room, she sees a beautiful Asian woman standing serenely with her head bowed.  She had her eyes closed as she gently swayed with the music.  The fledglings gather around her, the older ones already knowing their places and stances.  They bow deeply to her before coming to a relaxed upright position.  Allison, along with the other third formers, cautiously makes her way into the circle.  She bows along with them, unsure of what else she’s supposed to do.  Looking around, she noticed the older kids all had their eyes closed as they listened to the flute play.  Allison reluctantly did the same and soon enough found the tension draining from her body.

 

She was so relaxed she barely noticed when the professor began speaking.

 

“Blessed be, fledglings.  I see we have a few new faces this semester,” she says.  Her gaze travels the circle as she speaks.  “Do not be fooled by the melodic relaxation around you.  This class will be challenging in more ways than one.  You will learn to defend yourself not only from others, but from your inner demons,” she says.  Her dark eyes land on Allison, making her shiver.  “I hope you are ready.”

 

From there, the music abruptly changed to a harsh adrenaline pumping tune.

 

“Third formers, find an older fledgling.  Today, you will be partnering to learn the basics.”

 

The other students immediately start chatting and pairing off.  Allison franticly looks around, hoping to find an older girl to partner with.  Unfortunately, she’s too slow and the girls are all off together, leaving her behind.  From across the circle, a tall boy with brown hair gives her a small smile before walking over.  He stops in front of her and she looks up into his dark brown eyes.

 

“Would you like to be my partner?” he asks.  He holds his hand out for her to take, as if asking her to dance and not learn the basics of Tae Kwon Do.  She hesitantly accepts and he whisks her out into the middle of the floor.  “You’re Allison, right?”

 

“Um, yeah,” she mumbles, caught off guard.

 

“I heard you ran into some trouble already,” he says.  Allison realizes they’re still holding hands and immediately let’s go.  She nods in answer, not willing to say anything else.  Who knew if this guy was with them too?  “Well this class will teach you how to defend yourself – and by the size of this bruise,” he says, trailing his fingers along her jaw.  “You could use that.”  Allison slaps his hand away with a glare, but he only smirks in amusement.  “Anyway, let’s go over the basics.”

 

They train for what feels like forever, practicing the same forms over and over again.  It’s a tough and monotonous workout, but it feels good.  Her heart’s pumping and sweats beading down her neck as she thrusts her fists out and lunges to the side again and again.  They don’t stop until the bell chimes.  She’s out of breath and probably looks a mess, but Nick is completely composed.

 

“With some more practice, you’ll eventually get those forms right.  It’ll take you a long time to get to my level, but I’m the best, so that’s to be expected.”  Allison almost rolls her eyes, but holds it back.

 

“Yes and your arrogance will be your downfall,” Professor Noshiko says as she passes by.  Nick huffs, but doesn’t argue with her.  Allison quickly retreats to the changing room again, not wanting to be alone with him.  After dressing, she steels herself for the disaster that dinner will be.

 

The actual food smelled and looked amazing – grilled chicken in an apricot glaze.  It was the seating that had her stomach in knots.  When she rounded the corner, her heart immediately leapt into her throat.  The first table she laid eyes on – the one closest to the exit – was filled with enemies.  Isis, Apophis, the blonde that waved to her (aka the cowardly blonde in her opinion), that Bes guy, and a shy looking brunette were all chatting at one table, while the table behind them had Horus, Heket, the third blonde and a guy she hadn’t met yet.  Allison quickly crosses the room, avoiding them at all costs.  She notices the ‘no-soul’ kid sitting with the red head from Sketching and 3 other people she hasn’t seen before.  The kid glances at her, but doesn’t motion for her to sit with them or anything.

 

Taking a breath, she hesitantly approaches his table.  He helped her earlier, so maybe he’ll do it again.  She ignores the red flags shouting ‘turn back’ in her head and keeps walking forward.  There was one empty chair at the end of their table.  She wonders if she should ask, or just sit down.

 

Asking would probably be best.

 

“May I sit here?” she asks politely.  The blonde at the table (and really, how many pretty blondes were at this school?) snaps her sharp blue eyes to her.  She gives her a once over and then huffs in amusement.

 

“Sorry honey.  No third formers allowed.”

 

“Especially not dressed like that,” the guy next to her says.  Allison looks down at her outfit, not getting it.  She had on a navy blue tank top with a black jacket and dark blue jeans.  It wasn’t particularly stylish, but she thought it’d looked cute.  She looks back to the group, a glare forming.  The red haired guy and the equally red haired girl next to him look to the table awkwardly.  The one at the end – the one who warned her earlier – meets her gaze steadily, but doesn’t defend her or ask her to sit.  Allison rolls her eyes at their immaturity and continues on.  If they wanted to be fucking jackasses that was fine.  She didn’t need them anyway.

 

The first table in the next row had Nick and a slew of older kids she’d never seen.  She avoids that table as well, having gotten the creeps from him in class.  The rest of the room held an assortment of semi-miserable and semi-terrified fledglings.  They huddled together, chatting quietly, gazes avoiding the front of the room at all costs.  It was ridiculous, but she understood it.  Large cliques like the ones she’s seeing have a strange power over others.  Plus, if they have powers like she witnessed from Kate, then there’s no telling what they might do.

 

Allison eventually finds an empty seat at a round table by the back.  It was filled with clearly older kids, but she didn’t care.  She didn’t ask if she could sit this time, she just plopped herself down.  They all ate in silence, Allison glancing up once in a while.  She notices they all wore some kind of symbol over their heart, but none were the Spiral, like hers.

 

“What do the symbols mean?” she asks.  The guy to her right doesn’t even react, just keeps eating.  The one to her left continues to stare sullenly out the window, watching a bird swoop through the air.  She looks to the other girls at the able – the oldest focusing on painting her nails and the youngest deeply engrossed in a book.  The little blonde across from her smiles slightly.

 

“They symbolize which year you’re in.  Each year has their own sign.  Yours – the third former symbol – is called Nyx’s Labyrinth.  The fourth former is Eros’ wings.  Fifth former,” she says, pointing to the guy between them.  He’s still scarfing down his food like a mad man.  Allison zeros in on the embroidery on his shirt – it looks like the Goddess in a flying carriage.  “Nyx’s chariot,” the blonde explains.  She points to her own shirt next.  “This is the sixth former symbol.  It’s the three Fates.”

 

“What do they all mean though?” she asks.

 

The blonde opens her mouth to answer, but the brunette next to her sighs deeply, cutting her off.  “Are you done being her tutor, yet?  We have to get to the ritual.”  The nice one fidgets nervously.

 

“I don’t know why you insist on going.  It’s not like they’re gonna let us in.  They never do,” she retorts.

 

“They’ll have to let us in this time,” the brunette says.  She hefts a giant bottle of expensive wine onto the table, making Allison gape.  Not only was it alcohol, but it was _not cheap at all_.  The guy next to her finally finishes his food and looks to the brunette.

 

“If you have to _buy_ your way in, then it ain’t worth it.  Why do you wanna hang out with a bunch of assholes anyway?” he asks and then belches.  Allison cringes and sips her water quietly.

 

“Because I _deserve_ to be part of it.  I’m rich and classy, unlike you,” she says sweetly.  The guy snorts grossly and then leaves the table.  “Forget him.  Come on, Patty, let’s go,” she says.  The blonde – Patty – sighs dejectedly but starts to leave with her.  At the last minute, the brunette turns to Allison with a smile.  She’s not fooled.  There is absolutely zero warmth behind that smile.  “You should come, new girl.  It’ll be fun.”

 

The last girl at the table finally closes her book with a loud snap.  “Yes, by all means, have fun watching them fail to fit in.  Yet again,” she says, eyes narrowed at the brunette.

 

“Shut it, Jen.  Just because you gave up, doesn’t mean we should too.”

 

“I didn’t give up, I just got a clue.  Larry is right – they’re assholes,” she says firmly.  It sounded like an argument this group has had many times.  Jen turns away from them, stacking her books in her hands.  “But do what you want.  I’m going for a walk on the trails.  Coming, new girl?” she asks.  She doesn’t wait for an answer, simply heads for the exit.  The bird-watcher next to her immediately gets to his feet and follows her.  Allison looks back and forth, not sure who to follow.  On one hand, Patty seemed nice, but what they were about to do sounded like a bad idea.  She didn’t even know what it was and it didn’t sound good.  Plus, she loved the trails.

 

“Um, I’m gonna go to the trails,” she mumbles.  Jen wasn’t particularly nice, but Allison figures it’s a good enough start.  She had to make friends somewhere, right?

 

“Your loss, psycho girl,” the brunette says and then spins on her heel.  Patty sucks in a breath at the name and glances warily at Allison.

 

“She didn’t mean that,” she mumbles.  Even though she looked upset about the comment, the girl still scurried away like Allison had suddenly contracted the plague.  Sighing, she throws away her trash and hurries out the back exit.  It only takes her a few minutes to catch up with Jen and the quiet guy.  The girl had put her books down at the base of a tree, apparently not even worried that someone will steal them.  Quickly tilting her head to read the titles, Allison can see why.  They were all history books – some non-fiction, some fiction.  Not exactly Allison’s cup of tea.

 

She jogs to catch up and they walk in silence for a while.  “I’m Allison, by the way,” she says eventually.

 

“So?” Jen asks snidely.  Okay, so much for making friends.  She turns to the guy, who’s looking up into the trees.

 

“Is bird-watching your hobby?” she asks, curious.  He startles when he realizes she’s talking to him.  At first, it seems like he isn’t sure what to say, but it passes.  To her surprise, he starts droning on about different kinds of birds; pointing to ones they come across and giving their scientific names.  After 20 straight minutes of it, Allison is seriously sorry she asked.  Though he’s boring her to death, she nods along politely.  Jen, however, gets fed up quickly.

 

“Oh my god, Steve, no one gives a shit.  Shut the fuck up,” she grumbles.  The guy stutters for a second and then snaps his mouth shut.  He then proceeds to stare sullenly at the trees.  Allison glares at the back of the girl’s head.  She’s probably going to regret this.

 

“I care, Steve.  Go on.  Teach me about the birds,” she says, nudging him.  His mouth twitches and he stands a little straighter.  With a firm nod, he continues his lesson about the birds.  When he starts talking about fish as well, Allison zones out.  They weren’t the friendliest or most exciting, but at least they weren’t attacking her.

 

**

 

A little over a week goes by with no excitement.  No one attacks her, she avoids Apo and Horus at all costs, and she sits at the same table for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  Sure, there’s still taunting from the 3 blondes and Heket, strange occurrences with the ‘no-soul’ guy (who she learns is called Hades), odd stares from Nicholas’ crowd, but other than that it’s actually quiet for once.  She eats with the same group of people every day and some of them start to warm to her.  Patty is the nicest – she’s super old-fashioned when it comes to dating and yet modern with her love of computers.  She even took one apart and built a better version so it would run faster.  Allison was impressed, even if she had no idea what the hell the girl was talking about half the time.

 

Steve showed her his very own aquarium full of all different kinds of colorful fish.  He was a sweet guy, but honestly boring as fuck.  The poor kid stuttered like crazy and kept saying “like that there” – his version of “like” in a conversation.  He also kept trying to talk to her about light switches.  Allison tries not to fall asleep when with him.  She also learns not to take Jen’s comments personally.  The girl is the biggest pessimist Allison has ever met, but she’s not completely awful.  Her laugh, however, is downright horrendous.

 

As for Larry and the brunette – Tricia – Allison doesn’t speak to them much.  The only time Tricia decides to acknowledge her presence is if she feels like insulting someone.  Larry is kind of a pig – he’s a bit of a racist, a total homophobe, and he doesn’t talk to her unless she’s dared to show cleavage for once (which isn’t often).  All in all, her life could be worse.

 

One morning she’s eating spicy chicken and listening to Tricia and Larry bicker, when loud screams erupt from the front of the room.  The kids at her table immediately pale, but they don’t move.  It’s deadly silent save for a girl screaming her head off.  Allison starts to get to her feet, but Steve pulls her back down with a shake of his head.

 

“You don’t wanna see,” he mumbles.  Students are staring wide-eyed, either at their dinners, the floor, the ceiling, the walls – at anywhere the screams aren’t coming from.  Allison is about to brush Steve’s hand off and run to whomever it is, when Derek bursts through the doors.  She _does_ stand this time to see what’s happening, but she’s the only one.

 

“I need a High Priestess and Deaton in the cafeteria now.  _Right now_ ,” Derek says into his phone.  He rushes to the table closest to the windows, where the ruckus is coming from.  Every time the girl takes a breath to scream, an awful wet choking can be heard.  Allison shuffles closer to the windows to see better.  She instantly covers her mouth to hold in her own scream when she finally sets her eyes on the scene.

 

The boy with the glasses from her Vamp 101 class – Ian, she learned – is lying on his back on the floor, blood seeping from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears.  He struggles to breathe and cough at the same time as it continues to poor out of him.  The girl that had been screaming was the blonde that always argued with him in class – Milly, was her name.  She’s standing above him screaming her head off, her eyes wide open.  Allison didn’t even realize they were friends, with how much they bicker in class.

 

Milly trembles so much she falls to her knees, her hands reaching for the dying boy.  She eventually stops screaming as she cradles Ian in her lap, but Allison wishes she hadn’t stopped.  The crying and begging that followed was worse.

 

“Stay with me, Ian, please stay with me,” the girl cries.  A heart wrenching sob punches out of her as the boy grips her hand tightly.  “Don’t leave me, _please_.”  Derek cautiously comes to their side and gently moves Ian onto his side so he can breathe better.  Not a minute later the doors are whooshing open again, this time Jennifer storming in with Braeden and Deaton (who she’d learned was the only doctor here) on her heals.  The Blue High Priestess and the doctor rush to the boy’s side, the latter resting soothing hands on him.  His coughing immediately starts to calm slightly and he’s able to squint up at Milly.  “I can’t – I can’t live without you.  You can’t leave me, not now,” she sobs.  Ian rasps like he’s trying to speak, but he can’t.  Instead, he reaches up and cups her face, which only makes her cry harder.

 

Braeden kneels next to the two fledglings and joins Deaton in placing a gentle hand on the boy.

 

“Water, come to me.  Cleanse this fledgling of his suffering,” she murmurs.  Allison watches in amazement as the blood spills from his body, clear fresh water taking its place.  “Spirit, come to me.  Strengthen this child until he’s in the loving arms of his Goddess once again.”  Ian jolts, but a relieved sigh escapes his lips.  Allison shifts her attention to Jennifer, who’s staring at Braeden with an unreadable expression.  Her lips are in a thin line, but her eyes are shifting all around the scene, as if deciding what to do.  Allison wonders if she’s naturally upset by the death of a fledgling, or simply trying to figure out the most appropriate response.

 

When her face crumples, Allison begins to think it’s the former.  But as she moves towards Milly, a flicker of annoyance passes over her face.  It’s gone so fast, Allison thinks she must have imagined it.

 

The woman places a kind hand on the distraught girl’s head, stroking her hair.

 

“Spirit, come to me.  Support this young girl who has sadly lost her best friend,” she says.  Though her words were comforting, Allison wasn’t sure she believed the sincerity behind them.  However sincere or not, Milly slowly calmed down and sniffled as her friend took his final breath.  “Derek, find Satomi and Kate.  Tell them what’s happened,” Jennifer orders.  The Warrior bristles, but does as asked.  Deaton leaves for a few minutes and comes back with a gurney.  The sight of it has Milly whimpering again.

 

The doctor and Braeden carefully lift Ian onto the bed and start wheeling him away.  As the doors open, Allison catches a glimpse of an older woman hovering nearby, her sad eyes on the gurney.  She walks alongside it down the hall, a hand resting on the boy as they go.  Kate isn’t far behind, but she comes into the cafeteria instead.

 

“Kate, there you are,” Jennifer says.  She waves a dismissive hand at Milly.  “Take care of your charge, please.”  Her aunt glares at the Priestess and sighs at the weeping girl, as if this tragedy had completely interrupted her dinner and she wasn’t happy about.  She reluctantly takes the girl’s arm and pulls her out of the room.  Jennifer then turns to the rest of the fledglings, not a hint of compassion in her eyes.  If anyone else noticed, they didn’t react to it.  “We’ve suffered a terrible tragedy today, but death is a part of life, just as it always has been.  I expect you to continue on as you have been.  This death isn’t the first, nor is it the last.  Good night, fledglings.”

 

Allison raises a brow at that speech.  Not only was it _not_ comforting at all, it was rude and disrespectful to that kid that literally just _died_.  She shuffles back to her table and falls heavily into her chair.  Patty reaches over and squeezes her hand.

 

“I know the first one is awful, but it gets better,” she murmurs sadly.  Allison looks up, confused.

 

“You talk about it as if it’s no big deal.”

 

“That’s because it’s not,” Tricia says with a shrug.

 

“6 out of 10 fledglings die,” Jen says.  Allison’s stomach churns as she realizes that’s basically the exact same thing Milly said on the first day.  Now her best friend was dead.

 

“And it’s normal for everyone to pretend nothing happened?  Will there be a funeral?” she asks.

 

“Those closest to him will grieve for a while, but then are expected to move on,” Steve mumbles.  He’s staring forlornly at his plate, fork scraping back and forth.  On her other side, Larry grunts, throws his fork down and starts to get up.

 

“It’s just how it is.  You’ll get used to it,” he grumbles.  Allison was ready to snap about how fucked up that was, but his expression stopped her.  The comment may have been callous and cold, but it was clear he wasn’t taking his own advice.  Usually he had a permanent scowl or occasional smirk on his face, but there was nothing this time.  It was as if he’d flipped a switch and turned himself off.  She watches him leave, confused by the reaction.

 

“He’s seen a lot of death,” Jen says quietly.  “We all have,” she adds even quieter.  She then gets up and follows the boy out the door, Steve tagging along as usual.  Tricia scoffs and starts packing up her nail polish and files.

 

“Whatever.  If we’re gonna go shopping, we better go now.  This _seriously_ put a dent in our free time,” she says.  She doesn’t wait for Patty to reply, just walks out the door and into the parking lot.  Conversation slowly picks back up around them, the other fledglings unthawing from the tragic event.

 

Patty sighs and dabs at her eyes with her napkin.  “Like I said, it’ll get easier,” she says with a reassuring pat.  Allison didn’t believe her for a second.

 

The next night in Vamp 101, Allison couldn’t help staring at Milly.  She was pale with dark circles under her eyes, her hair up in a messy bun.  The girl was unfocused for most of the class and simply walked out 10 minutes before the bell.  No one stopped her – not even Kate.  In fact, her aunt rolled her eyes and pleaded with the other fledglings to not be drama queens like Milly.  Allison refused to talk to her for the rest of the day.

 

**

 

On Tuesday – exactly two days later – it happens again.  This time Allison’s taking notes as Kate talks about the school symbols when a girl in the back starts coughing violently.  She whips around, along with many of her classmates, to stare in horror.  It’s Becky – the girl that had wondered if Nyx was resurrecting dead blue fledglings on the first day of class.  She moans and falls from her chair, prompting the fledglings around her to scramble away in fear.  Kate sighs heavily and pushes a button by the door.  A blinking red light starts to flash in the hallway.  Her aunt makes her way to the back and kneels down by the girl.  She turns her on her side, just as Derek had done for Ian.

 

Speaking of, the Warrior cautiously enters the room, the same vampyres as before trailing after him.  He waits back by the door this time as the three of them get to work.  Braeden comforts the dying fledgling while Jennifer stands idly by.

 

The Priestess looks to Derek and says, “Harris.”  He nods and leaves.  Allison’s realizing that the student’s mentor must be informed so they can be with them for…wherever they’re rolled off to.  The girl that sat next to Becky every day starts giggling.  It turns into a disturbing laugh.  People stare at her, Allison included.  It only stops when Milly gets up and pulls her into a tight hug.  The laughter slowly morphs into a terrible wheezing as tears stream down her face.  The girl clings to Milly fiercely.  Allison swallows harshly and looks away.  It was a moving sight – the two girls absolutely hated each other and yet they held each other as Becky is wheeled away.

 

“Milly, take her to her room,” Kate says, waving at the girl.  Once they leave, Kate hops up onto her desk and looks around the room.  “I know this is a sad night, but we didn’t finish talking about symbols,” she says bluntly.  Allison shakes her head and glares at her desk.  She _hated_ how they treated death here – like it didn’t matter.  Her aunt was all too quick to dive back into the lesson.  It was depressing.

 

**

 

The next night, as she ate her Apple Jacks, the grumpy girl from her Lit class bled to death over her plate of eggs.  Her name was Alana and when she died, her girlfriend started screaming.  She picked up her chair and threw it at the windows.  Derek had to grab her from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around her so she couldn’t move.  The girl kept shouting ‘no’ over and over again and Allison held her breath, waiting for it to stop.  It didn’t though – not for a long time.  She screamed herself hoarse and then hyperventilated until she passed out.  Derek carefully picked her up and brought her to the infirmary, his face completely neutral.

 

She watched silently as the fledglings began to chat again as Alana was wheeled away.  The High Priestess didn’t even make a speech this time.  No one at her table talked about what happened – just bickered over who got the last muffin.

 

It was fucked up.

 

Allison decided to skip her first hour class that night.  The school – or someone – purchased new, stronger arrows and sturdier targets.  They’d also been moved to the sports field, so she trudged out into the darkness.  The only light was from flickering brassieres and the moonlight cascading from above.  She flung arrows and didn’t stop until someone wrestled the bow from her sore hands.

 

“Allison, stop.”  She blinks and looks up, breath coming fast as she refuses to let go.  Derek stares at her, brows furrowed.  The moon had shifted across the sky.  She’d only meant to skip first hour, but apparently she’d lost track of time.  “Let go,” he grumbles.  She reluctantly pries her fingers off and without a word, runs for the trail.  She hears him curse and then the steady thumps of his feet as he jogs beside her.  Allison runs faster, making her muscles burn until the feeling of desperation leaves her.  She doesn’t stop until they’re at the cliff again, just like the first time they did this.  Her feet skid on the rocks and Derek quickly grabs her arm, hauling her away from the edge.

 

She leans against her knees to catch her breath and is surprised to find him doing the same.  They must have been going faster than she realized.  Allison stretches up and walks in circles, trying to organize her thoughts.  Derek is fidgety, nowhere near as calm as the first time.

 

When she notices, he crosses his arms to stop.  “You shouldn’t be so close to the edge,” he grumbles.  Allison looks down, seeing that her feet were only inches from the ledge.  It didn’t bother her – heights never have.  Glancing back, she notices that Derek is at least 5 feet away.  Thinking on it, he was that far away the first time as well.  Maybe he was afraid of heights.  Allison obligingly steps away and starts walking the trail again.  She doesn’t miss the small breath he lets out, as if relieved she wasn’t about to fall to her death.  It was a welcome change to their weird relationship.  She can’t even really call it that.  It was more a co-habitation…or something.

 

They walk in silence until the halfway point.  “Did something happen?” Derek asks.  Allison stops and turns to him with a glare.  He isn’t fazed.

 

“Three kids died and no one gave a shit,” she snaps.

 

“It’s just how-”

 

“It is.  Yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” she grumbles.  She stomps away from him for a few feet but then turns back again.  “It’s fucked up.”

 

He nods slightly and mutters “It is.”  She wasn’t expecting that answer.  She expected another line about the ‘circle of life’ or someshit.

 

“Then why do they do it like this?  Why not have funerals or-”

 

“You really wanna go to a funeral every other day?”

 

“Well, no, not really, but I _would_.  It’s not right that we just do nothing.”

 

Derek sighs and looks at the trees instead of her.  “It doesn’t really matter if we do something or not,” he mutters.  “Funerals, wakes, memorials…they don’t make a difference, they don’t make it easier.”  Allison would argue, but the rare moment of vulnerability on his face has her shutting up.  “We should get back,” he grumbles.  She nods, taking the hint he didn’t wanna talk about it anymore.  They didn’t talk the rest of the way and didn’t say goodbye when they parted.

 

She missed all of her classes and was just in time for a last minute dinner.  The lunch lady smiled at her, but Allison couldn’t return it.  It’d been an awful few days.  The kids at her table were their normal selves and no one commented on her bad mood.

 

She dreamt Alana had come back from the dead as a zombie and ate her girlfriend.

 

**

 

For the next few weeks, Allison moves in a fog.  She barely sleeps because of the nightmares and her appetite diminishes.  Ironically enough, the only thing that snaps her out of it, is Milly’s blood spilling over her desk and onto the floor during Vamp 101.  Kate surprises her by cradling the girl through it.  Allison kneels next to her, thinking maybe she should comfort her aunt.  But the woman looks up at her with a smile as she rocks her charge back and forth.

 

“She’s a beautiful mess, isn’t she?” she asks.  Allison retracts the hand she’d been reaching out.  She wasn’t sure if this was some coping mechanism, or if her aunt really thought death was beautiful; that a 16 year old bleeding to death was a joyous event.  Everyone treats it like all the others and Allison wonders if Milly is with Ian now.  Do vampyres even go to heaven?  Is there an afterlife with Nyx?  The Red High Priestess seemed to think so.

 

Later that morning, after dinner, she’s calmly shooting just to practice.  It’s the first time since she’s been here that she’s not shooting to push away bad thoughts.  She’s wondering about things – sometimes disturbing things – but it’s not overwhelming for once.  Derek, as per usual, joins her eventually.  He simply punches the bag this time instead of slicing apart dummies.

 

When they take a break at the same time, he offers her a water bottle, which she gratefully accepts.

 

“I heard about Milly,” he mumbles.  Allison nods.

 

“My…my aunt said she was a ‘beautiful mess’,” she replies.  Derek scowls, but at least the comment didn’t send him into a rage, as she was worried it would do.  “She’s, uh, she’s…kind of fucked up, huh?” she asks quietly.  Derek doesn’t respond.  “What, no opinion on this?” she asks.  She knows she’s prying, but she’s too curious not to.  His expression flattens out, making her wince slightly.  She probably pushed too far.

 

“My opinion about her would scare you,” he eventually mumbles.  Allison stares at him, nerves kicking up.

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“You don’t want to know,” he replies.  His eyes narrow and she should back off, but she can’t.

 

“I know you hate her.”

 

Derek takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.  “Hate is too kind a word.”  He turns from her then and quietly leaves the gym.  Allison watches him go, not knowing what to think.

 

**

 

Two weeks went by with no more deaths and Allison never felt better.  She still thought it was fucked, but things had finally calmed down again.  She and Patty became close over those few weeks.  The girl was in her Fencing class as well, which made dealing with Apophis a hell of a lot easier.  Patty wasn’t tough by any means, but at least the guy left them alone when they stuck together.  She even began to enjoy the class, now that she had a friend.  Tricia slowly began to notice her as well, though that wasn’t a good thing.  She clearly hated the fact that Allison was spending so much time with her best friend.

 

Allison didn’t really care.  She finally had a friend and she wasn’t gonna give her up.  Jen and Steve warmed to her more as well, but still kept their distance.  She still doesn’t get along with Larry, but that’s not surprising.

 

“Hey, do you think I’m getting fat?” Patty asks, pouting at herself in the mirror.  Allison snorts.

 

“Are you kidding?  You’re literally the perfect size.  I’m jealous.”

 

“Yeah, right,” she laughs.  “Like you’re not a perfect 10.”

 

The girl sniffs as she fixes her hair.  Her voice seemed a bit nasally today, but Allison wasn’t sure why.  Maybe she’d been crying earlier.

 

“Patty, are you okay?  You sound like you’ve been crying.”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Let’s go thrust with foils,” she says, bouncing on her feet.  Allison laughs and shakes her head.  She starts for the door, but stops when she hears a quiet cough behind her.  Spinning around, she looks to Patty, but the girl is gazing behind her.

 

“Was that you?” Allison asks worriedly.

 

“No, it was back there,” she says.  “Let’s not worry about,” she murmurs.  Allison reluctantly nods, knowing this is how it goes.  She still hates it and idly wonders if they should go back, but Patty pushes her out the door.

 

“We’ll be partnering today,” Professor Marco announces.  Both girls groan and silently pray they’ll be working together.  “Allison you’ll be with Josh.  Patty, you’re with Apophis.”  Allison scowls while Patty’s eyes widen in fear.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Allison says.  “If he does anything, scream.  I’ll be right over here.”  The older girl nods nervously and cautiously follows Apophis.  The guy smirks as his eyes travel down her small frame.  Allison wants to punch him in the face, but her partner distracts her.

 

“Are you working with a foil or epee?” he asks.  Josh was actually pretty cute – she’d noticed him before.  He was very quiet and his blue eyes stared down at her with a gentle happiness.  Allison smiles and takes the foil, leaving him with the epee.  He was very athletic with strong, lean muscles and she probably stares for a bit too long.  When he catches her, he blushes furiously and looks away.  It makes her giggle, which she quickly stifles.

 

“What?” he says with a chuckle.

 

“Nothing,” she mumbles.  “You, uh, you’re good at this,” she says.  She cringes, wishing she knew how to flirt with boys without sounding like a moron.

 

“Thanks.  You are too,” he says nervously.  They both blush this time.  The nice moment is interrupted by a loud cry.

 

“Allison!”

 

She drops her foil and runs.  She figures Apophis has done something and is ready to swing when she gets close enough.  But the sight that greets her has her blood running cold and her legs shaking.

 

Patty is on all fours, her tears scarlet red, her lips crimson.

 

“No!” Allison shouts.  She rushes to her friend and catches her as she falls.  The girl blinks up at her, making more red tracks on her face.  She coughs violently, spraying Allison’s clothes.  Her friend grips her hand tightly.

 

“I’m scared,” she gurgles.  A soft cry punches out of Allison as she holds her friend closer.

 

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” she says.  A few minutes later, Braeden and Deaton are surrounding her, laying hands on Patty.

 

“Water, soothe her pain,” Braeden murmurs.  Patty gasps wetly as the blood slowly rinses from her body.  “Spirit, help her find piece on her journey to Nyx’s garden.”  She hadn’t even noticed, but Professor Marco had also come to the girl’s side, holding her hand gently.

 

“You’re a brave girl, Patty.  We’ll always remember you,” he murmurs.  The girl smiles up at him and squeezes his hand.  Allison wishes she could be so positive, wishes her heart wasn’t caving in on itself.  She must make a pathetic sound because Patty’s eyes return to her.

 

“This…isn’t…over,” she rasps.  Allison leans closer, tears obscuring her vision.  “I’ll…see you…again, Ally,” she whispers.  Allison stares, waiting for more, but nothing comes.  Her friend just stares up at her, eyes wide and lips parted.

 

“Patty...?” she whispers.  There’s no answer.  Deaton and Braeden carefully take her from Allison’s lap and she lets them.  Her body felt numb, her mind racing as she thinks of all the things she still didn’t know about Patty, of all the questions she never got to ask, of all the future memories that were just ripped away within only a few minutes.

 

“Come on, kid.  Let’s get you cleaned up.”  That was her aunt, pulling her to her feet, and guiding her out of the room.  She gets her into the dorms and into a warm shower.  Allison thinks she says she’ll be in the professor dorms if she needs anything, but everything’s too far away to make sense.  She slides down the shower wall and wraps her arms around herself.

 

_I’ll see you again, Ally_.

 

Allison rocks back and forth, her tears mixing with the water.  She stays that way until her muscles are sore and the water is freezing.  Quickly getting up and drying off, she looks at herself in the mirror.  The Allison that stared back wasn’t the same girl from a month ago.  It wasn’t the girl that stressed over tests, or silently called Melony a bitch, or cheered during pep rallies.  She briefly wonders when that girl disappeared, but then decides she doesn’t care.  Back in her room, she pulls on soft pajamas and crawls under the covers.

 

The walls are still bare, but she stares at them as if they hold all the answers.  As she lies there, she starts to think that being Marked by Nyx was more of a curse than a blessing.  It hasn’t done anything good for her.  She’s an outcast at school, her family abandoned her, and the one friend she’d made just died in her arms.

 

Allison pushes the covers off and gets to her feet.  The room felt cold and empty, so she walks out into the hall.  She moves in a daze, not really sure where she’s going, just that she can’t be in her room anymore.  When she blinks next, she finds herself outside on the damp sports field.  Her bow and arrow still lie in the grass next to the target.  She wishes she could go back to two weeks ago, when she’d simply been practicing – wants that calm feeling back.  Now it’s just static as the overcast sun beats down on her.  It makes her skin prickle, but she doesn’t burn.  She briefly wonders if that would hurt less.  If bursting into a ball of flame would be less awful than the dark pit in her chest.

 

She grabs her bow and slowly turns to face the target.  The sun has her squinting – it’s dim rays making her eyes burn.  Closing them, she pulls an arrow from the quiver and notches it in place.

 

“Just breathe, Allison,” she whispers to herself.  She takes a deep breath, letting the arrow fly as she breathes out.  There’s a dull thud, letting her know it hit the target.  She does another, keeping her eyes closed.  Allison keeps shooting until she’s out of arrows.  She doesn’t reload this time, simply opens her eyes and stares at the bull’s eye.  They all hit their mark, a tight clustering right in the middle.

 

“Who taught you to shoot?”

 

She doesn’t have to turn to know who it is.  He seems to always be around when she’s shooting.

 

“My mother,” she replies.

 

“Were you two close?” he asks.

 

_“Unbelievable.  This is a **simple** task, Allison.”_

_“I’m **trying**.”  Allison notches another arrow and tries to pull it back, but it’s still too heavy for her.  Her mother’s disappointment washes over her.  She can feel the large eyes on her back.  The young girl tries again, but her muscles shake and she loses her grip.  The fear of her mother’s anger and the knowledge of her own failure brings tears to her eyes._

_Her mother scoffs behind her.  “You want my sympathy, Allison?  Because you’re a 7-year-old little girl and this is too **hard** for you?  Well, get over it,” she snaps.  The girl holds her breath as she tries to hold back her tears._

 

“Allison?”

 

Derek’s voice startles her out of the memory and she quickly wipes the tears from her face.  Her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but there’s no use in hiding it from him.

 

“No, we weren’t close – _aren’t_ close,” she murmurs.  She stomps over to the target and tugs the arrows out.  Allison reloads for a second round.  She keeps her eyes on the target this time, wanting to see the wood splinter under her weapons.

 

“Are you trained in anything else?” Derek asks.  He sounded uncomfortable with the very question and yet still asked.  Obviously the curiosity goes both ways then.

 

“Yes,” she mumbles.  “Chinese ring daggers.”

 

“Your mother teach you that too?” he asks.  His tone clearly betrayed the fact that he didn’t approve.

 

“No, my father taught me,” she admits.

 

“Were you close with _him_?”

 

_The bag is ripped off her head and her heart leaps into her throat.  The rope burns against her wrists as she struggles to get free.  Her father sits across from her, gagged and bound just the same.  A deep voice echoes through the abandoned warehouse._

_“Ever wonder what happens if a hunter is Marked?  Ever wonder what happens if **you** get Marked?  What do you think your father would do?  What do you think he’d **have** to do?  When all it would take to change everything, is a tiny Mark.”_

_Her father suddenly breaks free of his bindings and takes the gag from his mouth.  A tall dark-skinned man comes out of the shadows with a phone in hand – the recording just ending.  She breathes heavily around her gag, confused and scared.  Her father reaches out and pulls the cloth from her mouth._

_“Is this how we’re gonna do father/daughter talks from now on?” she asks.  She can’t believe he’d do this – kidnap his own daughter, tie her up, and completely terrify her.  And for what?_

_“No, this is how we’re gonna train you.”_

Allison flings arrows, imagining her pathetic 12-year-old self on the target.  He’d been tough, but he knew there were limits.  Her father made her tough.  They actually _had_ been close.

 

_“Daddy, it’s still me, I’m still your little girl.  Please don’t leave me.”_

_“I was supposed to protect you.”_

_“Dad, you did.  I’m standing right in front of you and I’m fine, I swear.”_

_“Allison, you’re a goddamn vampyre!  How is that fine?”_

_“We can **make**_ _it fine, Dad.  You just have to give me a chance.  Please?”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

Allison doesn’t bother hiding the tears that fall as she shoots.  There was no point, Derek had already seen them.  She still can’t believe he just left her like that.  After all they’d been through, he just turned his back like it was nothing.

 

_“You’re not Allison.  My daughter is dead.”_

 

She wasn’t even surprised at that one, not really – but it still hurt.  She had Kate, but Allison quickly realized the woman was insane.  Now people were dying around her left and right.  And what is she doing?  She’s fucking crying about it, just like she cried when her mother slapped her, when her father walked away, in the showers after Apophis touched her, and now for Patty.

 

Allison was tired of crying.

 

_“ **Stop** crying, Allison.  Crying makes you weak.”_

 

Just like that, the waterworks stop, leaving her stiff and cold.  Her mother was right.  She had to stop crying over everything.  It wasn’t going to change anything.  It wasn’t going to bring her father around, it wasn’t going to deter Apo or Horus, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to bring Patty back.

 

“Allison?” Derek calls.  She looks up, having completely forgotten he was there.

 

“What?”

 

“I asked…,” he trails off.  “Never mind,” he mutters.  Allison stares at him, but he keeps his eyes on the trees behind her.  “You should get some rest.”  The Warrior turns and walks away.  Allison drops her weapons and follows him into the school.  Her feet were covered in dew and grass, as she hadn’t even bothered to put shoes on.  As they near the grand building, she finally notices the subtle decorations that have been strung up.  Beautiful beads run along the walls and hang from the doorways.  Dimly lit candles have been placed in every window.

 

“Is it a holiday?” she asks.

 

“February 2nd is Imbolc.  It’s a celebration for spring to come,” he replies.

 

“What happens?”

 

“There’ll be a feast and a ritual celebrating Nyx and new beginnings.”

 

“Ritual?”

 

Derek sighs, but continues.  “The ritual will be cast by the High Priestess and her chosen circle.  It changes depending on the holiday.”  The man seemed to hate even talking about it, so she let it drop.  As usual, they don’t speak as they enter the building and they don’t say goodbye when they part.  Allison does watch him walk away this time though – watches until he rounds the corner.

 

She hopes the coming holiday brings a little light to life – for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, there aren't any other pack members at the school yet. Allison was the first of the group to be marked. It will actually just be her and Derek for a while longer, so the next chapter will be in his POV again. I hadn't intended for their friendship to bloom so quickly, but that's just where the story went.
> 
> Any and all comments are welcome :)


	3. I See Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imbolc goes horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Derek POV. Enjoy!

**Derek**

 

The new fledgling wasn’t anything like he pictured.  She may have the same eyes, but as far as he could tell, she was nothing like her aunt.  A little angry maybe, but Derek isn’t one to judge that.  He continues to keep her at a distance though.  He’d been fooled by an Argent once before and he wasn’t gonna let it happen again.

 

It was early February, which meant another damn holiday.  Imbolc wasn’t the absolute worst, but it was up there for him.  This was Laura’s favorite Vampyre holiday.  He can hear his sister’s voice now: _Come on, baby bro, we gotta go ask Nyx about spring and shit._  She wasn’t the classiest girl out there, but she was perfect in every other way.  She’d been Marked 2 years before him and 9 days after she Changed, their family died.  Laura didn’t have anywhere to go, so Jenny agreed to let her stay until she found a career path.  The next summer her body was found at the bottom of the ravine by their old house.  It was ruled a suicide.

 

_“You don’t really think she took her own life, do you?”_

 

No, Derek hadn’t believed it.  A week prior to her death, she’d accepted her dream job at the San Diego Zoo.  They’d been celebrating over Skype (as he was already in Arabia by then) and she’d been so excited about how her life was going.  Four days later, Peter called him to deliver the news – that she’d jumped to her death.

 

_“But watching someone **else** you trusted take her from you – that was priceless.”_

 

She had to be lying, that’s what she did.  For months he figured Kate had struck again – was taking out what little was left of his family.  Derek can’t imagine who else would want to kill Laura.  She never made enemies.  Everyone loved her.  It just didn’t make sense.

 

“Hale, get your ass to the field,” Kincaid barks.  Derek pulls himself from his thoughts and follows everyone outside.  It was brightly lit with red and white burning sconces, which he steered clear of.  The fledglings gather in a tight circle, presumably around the altar in the middle of the field.  Derek and his fellow Warriors stand on the outskirts of the circle, keeping a watchful eye.  When Jennifer had said he was supposed to watch for fights among the fledglings, he thought she was kidding.

 

In the last month alone, he’s broken up six different fights – two of which involved that Isis girl.  Derek wasn’t fooled by her innocent act.  Clearly her mentor – the High Priestess – had taught her well though.  He’d figured she or her boyfriend started the fight with Allison, but he had to play it fair since he didn’t see anything.  Isis had also antagonized that Alana girl, provoking the latter into another shoving match.

 

Derek had known Alana fairly well by the time she died.  Not only was she involved in that fight, but another between another girl about her lover.  He stayed by the girlfriend’s side until she calmed down, but she was gonna be messed up for a long time.

 

There was another relationship fight, but with 2 guys and a girl (who in his opinion was at fault in that situation).  The worst one he had to break up was between a pair of roommates.  Apparently the two boys fought often and after observing, Derek noticed that they were in two of the biggest cliques at the school – just on opposing sides.  That’s not the one that bothered him, however.

 

A few days ago, he was called to the library about a heated argument that ended with someone getting a fist to the face.  After sitting down with the two boys and asking what happened, he found out the younger one – Larry – had made some homophobic slur towards one of the other guy’s friends.  They wouldn’t say what the remark was, but by how pale the insulted kid looked, he was guessing it was pretty bad.  Considering his own sexuality, he hated Larry instantly.  He sent him to the Priestess to deal with, knowing that if he took matters into his own hands, the kid would be dead now.

 

Derek didn’t fail to notice that Larry was one of the boys at Allison’s dining table.  He didn’t think they were close, but it still bothered him.

 

His attention is pulled away as he nears the field, where Braeden stands by the gate.  She’d been less than subtle about her liking at first, but ever since his first breakdown, she’d backed off.  The woman was clearly tough, but kind as well.  Derek had kept his distance with her too, however.  His stomach twists in knots as he nears her.

 

“Blessed be, Derek,” she says with a smile.  She dips her fingers into the bowl of water and traces the familiar pentagram on his forehead.  Back when he was a fledgling, it had been Professor Morrell’s job to anoint the students, so it’s strange to have Braeden instead.

 

“Blessed be,” he murmurs.  He doesn’t stick around to chat, simply moves to his post in the western point of the circle.  Deaton nods to him as he passes by, but Derek ignores him.  The man has been watching him obsessively closely over the past month.  He understood why, he just wished he’d stop already.  He’s not gonna kill anyone or hurt himself – probably.

 

Both had crossed his mind more than once since that first breakdown.

 

The chattering around him hushes as the ceremony begins.  The High Priestess takes her place at the altar and her circle follows her motion, taking their positions.

 

Jenny wore a knee length flowered dress with her usual black heels.  Her hair was down in gentle curves and she had little to no make-up on.  Derek glares, the ensemble bringing back memories of a few weeks ago.  She’d pranced up to him in a flowing black dress, acting all cute and innocent.  She acted as though she expected him to still believe the charade.  He’d tried to walk away and ignore her, but she’d been persistent.  She followed him around the stables for the entire hour and there was only one moment when he almost lost it.  Jenny had disappeared for a moment, only to come rushing around the corner and throw herself at him.  Startled, he’d caught her in his arms, not knowing what else to do.  When he’d tried to put her down, she clung to him tightly.

 

_“What are you doing?” he asked.  She was smiling at him like he was the best thing on Earth._

 

_“I was getting bored just following you around.  Don’t you get lonely patrolling the school all on your own?”_

 

_“No.  In fact, I prefer it.  Now, get off me,” he grumbled.  Jenny pouted and then jumped up, wrapping her legs around him.  She’d never been this forward when they were dating.  Fed up, Derek embraced her like he was giving in and then threw her up against the wall – hard.  It had its desired effect.  She gasped, her grip loosening, and then he dumped her on the floor._

 

Thinking back on it, it was probably stupid.  He should have just ignored her until she gave up.  After that, she made it her mission to make him notice her.  Derek’s schedule had him monitoring her fourth hour class for the full 60 minutes every Friday.  When she wasn’t lecturing, she sat next to him and kept trying to hold his hand and when she _was_ lecturing, her eyes kept darting to him as if she was making sure he hadn’t left.  He _hated_ when she acted like this.  Derek much preferred when she was lording her power over him.  At least then he didn’t have the urge to kill her.  When she acted as his High Priestess it was much easier for him to stay in the role of Warrior.

 

With a heavy sigh he focuses back on the ritual.  Both his nightmares are thankfully distracted, so at least he’ll get some peace tonight.  The High Priestess had chosen Kate to represent fire tonight over Satomi (the elderly professor he finally remembered the name of).  Derek actually preferred it this way because then Kate wasn’t free to roam around the circle and antagonize him.  Braeden takes her place behind the yellow candle, Noshiko behind the green, and Professor Morrell behind the blue.  The woman gives him a small acknowledging nod, as it was _her_ section of the circle he’d be guarding tonight.  Her brother stands to her right and – annoyingly – Peter stands to her left.  Derek is unsure of their friendship – it seems utterly unnatural.

 

A few people to his uncle’s left he spots Allison.  She seems wary but excited about the coming events.  The young fledgling is trying to make small talk with the boy next to her, but the guy is utterly focused on someone on the other side of the circle.  He’s not being rude or anything, just distracted.  Derek recognizes the boy from one of the fights he had to break up and sure enough when he follows his gaze, he finds the overly-flirtatious red-head that the two boys had been fighting over.  He sighs and resists rolling his eyes.  The girl was nothing but trouble and was just gonna hurt one if not both of those boys.  Her name was Olivia or something, he thinks.

 

“Blessed be, fledglings and vampyres,” Jennifer calls.  She’s situated in the middle of the circle as most High Priestess’ are.  “We gather here tonight in celebration of the beginnings of spring.  Though full spring remains a few months away, tonight we shall call to Nyx and ask for her guidance during this time.  It is a time to thank our Goddess for bringing us life and to start afresh.  As we let go of the past, we embrace the present, and hope for the future,” she says.  The High Priestess strolls around the circle, a beatific smile upon her face.  As per usual the fledglings are in awe of her beauty and power as it shimmers around her.  Even Derek can’t take his eyes from her, though he wishes he could.  

 

She makes her way to the east side of the circle and gives a barely-there nod of respect to the Red High Priestess holding the yellow candle.  Jenny never wastes time with fancy invocations and simply strikes a match.  As she touches it to the candle, she says “I call air to this circle”.  Wind whips around both her and Braeden, their hair lifting and clothes rustling.  The fledgling next to her – that Apophis kid – frowns at the breeze, almost looking bored by the proceedings.  Professor Deucalion stands to her left and has his eyes closed as he takes a breath of the fresh air.

 

Derek had heard stories – some from professors, some from Jenny herself – that no one was more excited than Jenny during a circle casting.  The High Priestess used to even dance to music during the rituals when she was younger.  Derek is both grateful and disappointed that he never got to see her like that.  Maybe she’d have treated him differently had they met in that time – maybe she wouldn’t have used him for her own advantages.  He sighs at his thought process because it doesn’t matter if they’d met back then, Jenny isn’t the woman he’d hoped she’d be and she never would be.  She proved that the day she broke their imprint, the day she broke _him_ like they never meant anything and shipped him off to Asia.

 

The young warrior rips his eyes from her stunning figure, hating the rage that boils just beneath the surface.  He hates what she did to him and he _hates_ that he hates her.  Mostly he hates the confusion that swirls inside him every time he looks at her, let alone every time she touches him.  Some part of him still craves her touch, still wants to follow her to the ends of the Earth.  If he could carve that part out of his body, out of his very soul he wouldn’t hesitate, no matter the consequences.

 

Jenny glides to the south point in the circle, her smile tight as she greets Kate.  Neither give respectful nods or bows, simply stare passive-aggressively at each other.

 

“I call fire to this circle.”  There is no need for a match as the wick sparks to life under Kate’s strong hands, a satisfied smirk coming to her face.  The flame casts a warm orange glow against her skin, making her features softer and a gentle halo form around her golden locks.  She looks like an angel and the fledglings ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at the display of power.  Her dark lashes rise and her eyes snap to his, the light dancing inside her brown irises.

 

Derek’s stomach turns as he’s unable to look away.

 

_The heat races across his skin, his shoulder blades aching almost pleasantly as his body tries to heal from the burns.  He squirms under her touch, not wanting to take anymore, but a flat palm pushes him down into the mattress.  A scream wants to push its way between his lips as her fingers trace along his tattoo, but he bites down harshly on his tongue to keep it in.  She told him not to scream, so he wouldn’t._

 

_“Such a good boy for me, Derek.”_

 

Breathing hard, he focuses on the High Priestess instead – not much better, but the lesser of two evils – as she continues on to the west point of the circle.  His body feels hot and mouth dry as the memory tries to drag him down.   _I’m not there anymore, she has no power over me._  He repeats that to himself until he almost believes it.

 

“I call water to this circle.”

 

The woman touches the flame to the blue candle and a content sigh rolls through those around Professor Morrell.  Derek takes a stuttering step forward, wanting to feel her influence.  It doesn’t take long for the melodic sounds and salty aroma of the ocean to reach him.  It soothes his heated skin and calms his frayed nerves – washing away the lingering touches of Kate’s fire.  He sees Deaton and Peter relax as well as the fledglings around them.  Derek glances at Allison, who’s staring at the girl next to her in confusion.  The small girl smiles at the new fledgling, takes her by the elbow and squeezes her closer into the element’s circle.  Allison’s dark eyes widen in surprise and she looks down at her feet where small waves lap at her ankles.  Her lips part in a cautious smile and Derek is oddly glad to see her almost happy.

 

He quickly squashes the feeling, confused as to where it came from; she’s an Argent.   He shouldn’t be feeling anything other than hate – and a good amount of fear – towards her.

 

Earth is called next and Noshiko’s face transforms completely when her element is invoked.  Like Air, Earth is more powerful in the circle because the Professor and High Priestess can invoke it.  The trees surrounding the field creak and the grass under their feet shivers with anticipation.  Jenny returns to the altar and picks up her purple candle.

 

“And last but never least, I call Spirit to this circle,” she says.  The moment the flame touches the wick, the familiar silver line bursts to life, connecting the elements together.  It’s rare for a school to have so many vampyres gifted with elemental affinities – Nyx has truly blessed them.

 

“Now my young fledglings join us in ridding ourselves of past hurts and grudges as we embrace spring and the potential it brings for new beginnings.  I ask you now to think of all that has happened in the past few months – or further back if you like – and ask Nyx for her guidance and love.  Let her power and spirit flow through you, purging your souls of negativity.  Let us all close our eyes in a few moments of silence,” Jenny says.  The High Priestess raises her hands, closes her eyes, and tips her head to the night sky.

 

Derek sighs, amazed at the show she can put on.  He knows very well that she hasn’t heard the Goddess’ voice for centuries – who knows how long really – and yet she casts circles and prays to Nyx like nothing’s wrong.  The warrior shakes his head and closes his eyes, refocusing on the task he was given.  He’s supposed to let go, but he’s never been good at that.  Derek has always clung to his past, clung to the anger that has ripped through him ever since his family was burned alive.  There was despair before that of course, when Paige coughed and bled to death in his arms, but it was different.  He had people to lean on then – his family, his sister Laura, even Jenny (especially Jenny) – but after the fire there was only Laura and Jenny.  His sister had her own issues to deal with after everything, but Jennifer had been there for him.  She tried to help him through it, help him through the loss, guilt, and anger.

 

And then she ripped it all away with a harsh ‘I never loved you’.

 

Derek takes a breath, but there’s no way he’s letting go of the anger.  It’s the only thing that warms him in bed and the only thing that keeps him going at night – keeps him from crumpling at every glance from Jenny and every touch from Kate.

 

_Your anger will destroy you, my son._

 

The voice startles him, as it always does, and sends a different kind of warmth through him.  He understands what Nyx means and understands that she wants him to let go and heal, but he can’t.  Not yet, not until he finds something else to cling to, something else that he can live for.  He lives for the rage, the heat it brings.

 

_You will find something else to live for, young warrior.  I promise you that._

 

Derek opens his eyes and looks up at the bright moon.  He hopes the goddess doesn’t break that promise.

 

**

 

After the High Priestess wished them all a ‘Blessed Imbolc’, thanked and released the elements, the crowd converges back into the cafeteria for the feast.  He joins the other vampyres at the head table on the stage and unfortunately isn’t quick enough to snag a different seat.

 

“Hale, help us wrangle the kids first,” Kincaid calls.  Derek huffs in relief and quickly follows.  “The three of us will eat in shifts, you being last since you’re the youngest.  We’ll guard the exits and watch for fights in the meantime,” he says.  Ennis takes his seat at the table while Kincaid takes up position at the door and Derek strolls through the room.  It’s relatively loud in the large dining hall – fledglings mingling and joking with each other.  The first ten minutes pass by in a haze of boredom and Derek sighs at the tedious events.

 

He’s watching that Larry guy – the one who made the homophobic slur earlier in the month – chat up some curvy brunette.  Derek can’t help but frown as the girl eats up the attention and playfully teases him back as they flirt.  It was nauseating to be honest.

 

“Meeeewwwurrrgg.”

 

The disgruntled growl is the only warning he gets before Ivan is leaping out of a darkened corner and into his arms.  Derek juggles him for a moment before the familiar climbs up onto his shoulder.  He perches there, beady eyes narrowed at the doorway.

 

“What is it?” Derek asks, rubbing Ivan’s paw soothingly.  The cat bats his hand away and then pushes at his face to make him look towards the doorway as well.  A decent sized gray cat comes racing into the room, its fur on end as it yowls in distress.  Shortly after, another feline – smaller with a white and brown coat – chases after it, trying to catch up.  They race around the room, gaining the attention of the vampyres, before the white cat tackles its target.  They roll, biting and clawing at each other, but eventually the smaller cat comes out the winner.

 

“Lilliput!”

 

Harris jumps up from his seat and rushes to his injured familiar, glaring daggers at the satisfied winner.  The man pets the cat – Lilliput, apparently – before darting to his feet again.

 

“Who’s familiar is this?!” he demands.  Everyone turns as a chair scrapes along the wooden stage.  The Red High Priestess rises to her feet with a raised brow.

 

“That is Lola and I belong to her.  What seems to be the problem Harris?” she asks with a heavy sigh.

 

“ _Lola_ attacked Lilliput for no reason and I demand you do something about it, or I’ll-”

 

“You’ll _what_ , Adrian?” she snaps.  Wind whips around her and her voice amplifies.  “ _You_ do not get to demand _anything_ from me.  I am a High Priestess and you will show me some respect!”

 

“ _Jennifer_ is my High Priestess, therefore I will treat you just as _all_ your kind deserve to be treated.  You are abominations – created by a sorceress of dark magic.  The markings on your skin are clear proof of the evil that’s inside you!”

 

Derek quickly sets Ivan on the floor.  This argument had just taken a dramatic turn and he needed to be prepared to protect fledglings if someone lost their temper.  The other two red vampyres rise to their feet in alliance with their raging Priestess.  When Braeden lifts a hand to send a blast of air towards the other professor, a much more powerful blast knocks her down.

 

The warriors, himself included, shift closer to the stage as Jennifer slowly makes her way towards the other Priestess.

 

“You _dare_ to raise your hands against my subjects?” she asks lowly.  Jenny advances on her, soon towering over the other.  “You may be in charge of the red vampyres, but do not think for one moment that you have _any_ sway over anyone else.  I took you in when you had no one, when you were a helpless woman living in filth on the streets and _this_ is how you repay me?  By trying to lord your power over my people?”

 

When the ground begins to shake beneath their feet, Ennis quickly – cautiously – approaches the scene.  He places a gentle hand on Jenny’s elbow to gain her attention.

 

“Priestess, the children,” he murmurs.  Jenny frowns and glances at the rest of the room.  The fledglings are all frozen in shock – some looking fearful, some looking righteously furious for their Priestess.  The woman takes a deep breath and extends a calm hand to Braeden.  She reluctantly takes it and is helped to her feet.

 

Jenny plasters on a sweetly apologetic smile.  “I’m so sorry for losing my temper.  This is no time to be discussing such matters.  It’s a holiday and meant to be joyous.  Can you forgive me?” she asks.  It’s one of the best acts Derek has ever seen her put on.  It’s unsettling.  Braeden bows her head respectfully, but does not put her fist over her heart.  When she lifts her head again, there’s a tight understanding smile on her face.

 

“You’re right.  Tonight is meant to be about Nyx and new beginnings.  We’ll discuss this at a later time,” she says.  Derek can tell the words barely mean anything to Jennifer as she turns back to the room.

 

“Don’t worry, fledglings.  This was a minor disagreement between friends.  Please, continue with the feast,” she says.  The teenagers continue to be silent for a while until the vampyres return to their seats and pretend everything is normal once again.  Quiet chatter soon begins, but never reaches the roar it once was.  Students continue to find their seats as they filter in from the buffet line.

 

Derek catches his fellow Warriors’ eyes and they all nod in understanding.  They’d have to come together in the next few days to discuss the growing darkness around the High Priestess.  He doubts tonight’s small show of anger and power was the end of it.

 

**

 

As he stands in front of the large windows, he can’t help but frown when some prissy brunette snaps at a younger girl to get out of her seat.  She’s part of one of the three larger cliques at the school.  Derek honestly hated at least half of these kids.  He doesn’t remember teenagers being this bad when he was one.

 

The rude brunette flutters from her seat after a few moments and makes a beeline for the buffet line.  The young warrior tenses as he sees her approach another brunette – Allison.  He silently strolls through the aisles until he’s close enough to hear.

 

“It’s Allison, right?  My name is Isabella.  I heard you met my boyfriend in your fencing class – Nicholas?”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Allison replies.  She tries to politely move around the other girl, but is stopped.

 

“Wait, I want you to join us for dinner.  We’d _love_ to have you.”

 

Derek waits to see how the Argent girl will react.  He knows what this is really about – he’s seen it often in the last month.  Isabella is trying to recruit her, trying to get her to join them so their numbers will be stronger than the other two cliques.  It was a ridiculous power game that was running rampant among the fledglings.  A part of him hopes Allison will decline, but another part is wondering why the fuck he’s caring.

 

Allison sighs and steps closer to the girl, lowering her voice a bit.  “You do realize I saw how you treated that girl, right?  The one that was ‘in your seat’?  The one you called a cunt just now?”  Isabella almost gapes, but then quickly regains her confidence and narrows her eyes.

 

“What about it?  She knows she was wrong,” she says with a shrug.  Allison snorts and shakes her head.

 

“Thanks for the offer, but I _sadly_ have to decline.”

 

Isabella grabs her arm when she starts to walk away.  “Careful, new girl.  I’m offering you a place in our circle.  It’s not something you should turn down.  You’ll need _friends_ to survive here.”  Allison calmly pries the girl’s hand off and takes a step back.

 

“I can find my own friends, thanks.  Preferably ones who don’t treat me like property.”  As she’s finally able to get away, a slow ache courses through him.  She was strong, stubborn, and willful. He’s torn between being impressed and being horrified because for a split second a familiar arrogance had flickered across her face.  It left him unbalanced and in need of some serious distraction.

 

Wind howls outside as dark clouds suddenly cover the sky.  Looking out the window, he sees the bare branches of the tree whipping back and forth.  The ruckus catches the attention of most of the room, as the storm had come out of nowhere.

 

“Hey, where’d he go?” a blonde asks loudly.  Derek turns to her, not understanding what she means.  The boy at the head of the table snaps to attention and scans the room.  With a blink of recognition, Derek realizes it’s one of the fighting boys he’d dealt with earlier in the month.

 

A low rumble from outside has him looking through the window once more.  Under the dangerously swaying tree are a boy and girl.  They’re clearly arguing, clearly screaming at each other.  Derek sighs as he recognizes them as well.  The boy’s name is Zeus and he was involved (sort of) in at least two of the fights – one with his roommate and the other he was just the insulted victim.  The girl he’s not surprised about – it’s Olivia, the red-head that seems to cause trouble wherever she goes.

 

Shockingly, Zeus raises his arms and pushes her away.  A crack of lightning streaks across the sky, thunder booming a few seconds later.  The pretty blonde at the table gasps.

 

“Someone stop him!  I can’t go outside, the wind will ruin my hair!” she shouts.  The glare the other boy throws her is so harsh, the rest of the kids at the table shrink back.  Above them, the lights dim on and off, almost flickering as if they’re shorting out.  The shadows along the walls jump in anticipation, waiting for something to happen.  Derek is alarmed when he finds his own shadow to be writhing as well, as if waiting to strike.  It’s creepy as hell and he has no idea what’s happening.

 

“You’re seriously completely useless,” the boy grumbles.  The girl gapes and opens her mouth to snap at him when another crack of lighting – this time strong enough to shake the building – crashes outside.  When Derek looks back, he sees the girl has pushed back and they’re now screaming at each other again.  It has him focusing and rushing towards the door – which is wrenched open a second earlier by the dark haired boy from the table.  Derek follows the kid out into the wind towards the fighting duo.

 

“You can’t do this!” Zeus shouts.  He’s breathing hard as the girl crowds against him, an arrogant smirk forming.

 

“I can do anything I want.  I _own_ you,” she laughs.  Zeus goes to shove her again, but the dark haired boy pushes him back.

 

“Zeus, stop, you’re gonna hurt her,” he says.  Another bolt of lightning strikes – this time a mere 10 feet away on the ground.

 

“She deserves it!” he yells.

 

“No, she doesn’t.  Whatever she did is not worth you getting in trouble for.  Calm down!”

 

The door bangs open and Isabella stomps her way over, eyes narrowed at all of them.

 

“Olivia,” she snaps.  “Get inside.  You’ve had enough fun.”  The red-head sighs in disappointment, but obeys the command.  Isabella barely spares a glance for the two boys as she ushers her friend – or minion – back into the dining hall.  When Derek turns around, he finds the boys have disappeared.  Cursing at himself, he strolls further into the small courtyard in search of them.

 

The strange storm has calmed, leaving only a few dark clouds left in the sky.  What’s still odd is how the shadows created by the wall sconces continue to twist in unrest.  He finally hears whispering in the darkest corner of the yard, where a clustering of trees has grown.  Derek quietly makes his way over and almost stumbles when he finds them.

 

Zeus is leaning up against one of the trees, his arms wound tightly around the other boy.  The dark-haired one is clinging just as fiercely, deep frown on his young face.  Shadows seem to converge around them, as if protecting them.

 

“Zeus?!”

 

The loud shriek is coming from the doorway, where the blonde from earlier is standing, squinting into the darkness.

 

“Babe, where are you?” she calls.  Derek raises a brow and looks back to the two boys.  The dark-haired one has spotted him, but instead of being scared that they’ve been caught, a stubborn expression has come upon him.  Derek knows that look well.  He used to see it every time he practiced his coming out speech in the mirror.  The speech he never got to give – to his parents, to his sister, to himself.  The one where he would have told them all he liked women, but also men.  As this boy stares at him now, all he can see is his 17-year-old self.  “Hey, have you seen Zeus?”

 

The girl is strolling further into the courtyard, cautiously waving to get his attention.  Derek frowns when the odd shadows convulse and pull more firmly together to shroud the boys.  They’re still clearly visible, but whatever this force is, is trying it’s best to hide them.  With a sigh, he turns and heads back the way he came, stopping the girl from going any further.

 

“He returned to the dorms,” he says.

 

“Is he sick?  He’s not _dying_ is he?” she asks.  She tries to look passed him, but he gently steers her back towards the building.

 

“No, he’s fine.  Instead of reporting the fight, I let him leave.  Now, you should go back inside.  The wind may pick up again,” he says.  As he knew it would, that has her gasping and reaching for her hair before scurrying back inside.  Before he follows, he glances back towards the trees.  The two boys are slowly coming out of their hiding place, the dark-haired one nodding thanks as he pulls Zeus towards the dorms.  For once in the last month, Derek feels like he’s actually helped someone.

 

**

 

When his shift ends, he doesn’t return to the table.  Instead he takes his plate outside and sits on a bench.  He eats under the stars, watching the lingering clouds skate across the moon.  After finishing, he takes a walk through the trees, enjoying the fresh air.

 

“Here you are.”

 

Derek freezes, eyes glued to the trees in front of him.

 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hiding from me,” she teases.  He takes a breath and slowly turns, not liking having her at his back.  Kate strolls up to him slowly, hips swaying dangerously.  “But you’re smarter than that, aren’t you?  You know you can’t hide from me, sweetie.”  When she’s close enough, she reaches out and grazes a hand along his rough cheek.  Derek doesn’t hesitate to shove her away, satisfied when she stumbles a bit in her heels.  He knows he shouldn’t be surprised when a fist comes flying, but he is for some reason.

 

Derek dodges the blow and strikes back with another push.  He wants to hit her, but his mother’s voice keeps stopping him.  She taught him to never hit a woman because he is generally stronger and could hurt her badly.  But Kate isn’t just a woman – she’s a monster.  He’s meant to fight back, isn’t he?  He continues to deflect her attacks, but then she’s backing away with a smirk.  Her hands light up, casting more shadows within the darkness of the forest.  Derek’s heart races as her laughter fills the silence.

 

“Would you look at this – just like old times.  What’s it gonna be, _Der_?” she asks.  The nickname makes him flinch, his little sister’s face flashing before him.  “Are you gonna fight me?  Or _obey_ me?”

 

Derek chooses neither and instead ignores his instincts by turning his back and running.  Her amusement follows him in manic giggles and soon after the pounding of her heels joins it.

 

He whips through the trees, navigating the forest easily as he chases him.  He’s not sure where he’s going, he only knows he has to get away from her.  He won’t let it be like before.  She doesn’t _own_ him, he-

 

Heat catches up to him, blasting into his back.  He sprawls to the ground, rolling frantically to put out the flames.  In the middle of his panic, a strong hand grips his ankle and pulls him roughly forward.  He thinks she’s going to drag him somewhere, but instead he finds himself screaming as she lands on top of him - face, hair, entire body engulfed in flames.  She’s an inferno above him, fear more than anything else pinning him to the ground.  A hand runs up underneath his shirt, charring his skin just like so many times before.

 

“I’ve missed this body,” she whispers, voice crackling with embers.  “I can’t wait to have you again - to run my hands over these tight muscles, to light you up like I used to.  You look so pretty with my flames all around you, baby.”  She leans closer, her usually light brown irises turning a fierce gold from the fire’s reflection.  “I have so many plans for us.”

 

Derek tries to throw her off, but her hands quickly come out from underneath his shirt, wrap around his wrists and slam them into the dirt.  Flames lick at his skin, the pain bringing unwanted and humiliating tears to his eyes.

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it again.  I’ll make sure of it.”  Kate leans down even closer, her lips brushing his ear.  One of her hands releases his wrist so she can drag a burning hand through his hair, searing his scalp.  The stench of burned hair has his throat closing.  “I’ll have you _begging_ in no time, sweetheart.”

 

_“I wanna hear you **beg**.”_

 

_“Please.”_

 

_“Come on, sweetie, you can do better than that.”_

 

Derek closes his eyes, trying to tamp down on the fear, trying to remember his training.

 

_“Remember, if you’re ever compromised, don’t let them see you beg.  Don’t **ever** give in, you hear me?  No matter the situation, no matter what they do to you, you fight like hell.  Do you understand me, soldier?”_

 

Eyes snapping open, Derek takes a deep breath - ignoring the stench of his own burning body, ignoring how familiar her hands feel, ignoring the familiar pain they bring.  He immediately brings his free arm up, elbowing her hard in the face.  Woman or not, she’s his enemy.

 

She grunts in surprise, blood gushing from her broken nose.  He takes the distraction and runs with it - grabbing the back of her head and slamming it into the ground.  Her flames dance around her, surging to protect her, but he pushes through them.  Arching up, he rolls them, landing on top and letting his fists fly into her face again and again.  The blood spattering on his jacket is satisfying.

 

Kate suddenly screams, surprising him.  But it’s not terror behind that scream - it’s rage.  There’s nothing he can do when her body erupts into flames, blasting him off of her and into the trees.  His skin feels blistered, his face and hands burning.  Derek doesn’t waste time collecting himself, he immediately gets to his feet and starts running.  He runs and runs until his legs give out.  Fortunately, the school is only a few more feet.  Once inside, he should be safe-

 

The roar of fire reaches his ears.

 

Panicking, he tries to get his exhausted legs to cooperate.  When they don’t, he drags himself through the dirt towards the closest door.  Once inside, he slams the door closed and slides the lock into place - grateful to find that it’s the door leading to the gardens, the one to the kitchen with the heavy deadbolt.

 

Not trusting the momentary safety, he reaches up and pulls a sharp blade from the knife block.

 

_It’s okay, I’m fine, I just have to wait until morning.  She won’t stay out passed then._

 

Derek repeats that to himself for the next few hours.  He doesn’t move, barely breathes, and keeps a tight grip on his knife.

 

It’s not the shuffling feet that finally grab his attention, but the gentle hand that lands on his.  Gaze snapping up, he instantly thrusts the knife out when he sees who it is.  The girl freezes, lips parting in shock.

 

“Derek-”

 

“Back. Up,” he says lowly.  She doesn’t move, just stares at him.

 

“Derek, I-”

 

He pushes the knife harder against her throat, drawing a small bead of blood.  She quickly backs off, but doesn’t leave, eyes still frozen open.

 

“Derek, what-”

 

“ _Stop_ saying my name,” he snaps.  Allison nods frantically, but to his annoyance, still doesn’t leave.

 

“What happened?” she asks quietly.  He stares at her for a long time, the sight of her making him sick.  He can’t believe he’s been getting close to her, been talking to her, had grown even an _ounce_ of sympathy for her.  She’s just like her aunt.  They’re practically the same person.

 

When the girl tentatively reaches a hand out, he reacts. She cries out as his blade slices across her palm and she quickly cradles it against her chest.

 

_You didn’t have to do that.  She’s a nice girl, she’s not Kate_.

 

“Yes she is, shut up,” he whispers.  His guilt can go fuck itself because Allison was _exactly_ like her aunt.  How could she not be?  The young fledgling narrows her eyes, brows furrowed in confusion.

 

“Der-”

 

“ _Don’t_ ,” he barks.

 

_“What’s it gonna be, **Der**?”_

 

“Okay, okay,” she says quickly.  She backs away, hands raised.  Blood drips down her hand, staining her wrist as it flows.  “I’m leaving...but I’ll be back,” she says quietly.  Derek’s still staring at her blood.  He hurt her.  He hadn’t meant to hurt her.  Derek pulls further into himself, the guilt that’s always rolling through him bubbling to the surface.  The young fledgling quickly gets to her feet and runs out of the room, droplets of blood trailing after her.

 

The shaking of his hands has light dancing along the blade, the slickness coating it grabbing his attention.  Panic rises up and he drops the knife before rising to his feet and bolting from the room.  This wasn’t supposed to happen.  He was supposed to be strong enough to handle them - to handle _her_.

 

Halfway up the back stairwell, he realizes he’ll have to pass through the professor dorms if he goes this way.  Quickly retreating, he shoves his way back through the kitchen, knocking over a stack of bowls and not caring one bit.  He pushes his way through the swinging door and runs across the thankfully empty dining hall.  Rushing down the west wing, he doesn’t notice when one of the classroom doors opens, and barely hears when someone calls his name.  Derek doesn’t even realize he’s been holding his breath until he’s up the stairs, banging through his bedroom door, and slamming it shut.  He leans against it, breathing hard as what happened plays on in endless loop before his eyes.

 

Every time he blinks, he’s encased in flames. They turn the wooden floors black, climb up his bed – where she lays, spread out in all her glory, waiting for him.

 

“No, no, she’s not there, it’s not real,” he whispers, shaking his head.

 

Someone bangs against the door, pushing it open and almost sending him to the floor. A strong hand grabs the collar of his jacket, pulls him back, and slams into the wall.

 

“Are you insane?” Kincaid yells. “You injured a student! What the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

 

Derek is too stunned to respond. The man eyes suddenly widened and dart over his face, up to his hair, and then down at the rest of him. He leans back, keeping that one hand pinned to Derek’s chest as he takes it all in.

 

“Fuck, Hale,” he mutters. “The hell happened to you?”

 

Wits coming back to him, Derek shoves him off.

 

“Nothing happened,” he grumbles.

 

He stiffly moves to his dresser, rummaging around for something to sleep in. The attack has been efficiently pushed down, locked away in the recesses of his mind, along with all of his other memories of her. Derek moves in a daze, all the fear having been dulled along with his other emotions.

 

“Hale, answer me,” Kincaid shouts.

 

“What?” he asks distractedly.

 

“Tell me what happened. Was it Jennifer?”

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

“Was it Kate?

 

Derek instantly darts a hand out and pushes him roughly into the wall.

 

“I said nothing happened,” he says quietly. His low tone has Kincaid actually taking a step back. “Now drop it.”

 

“Fine,” he mutters, nodding. Derek turns away again, grabbing the clothes he’s found and heading into his bathroom. “Hale, wait a minute. I won’t ask about…whatever it was, but we need to address the aftermath.”

 

“Nothing happened,” Derek repeats.

 

“Yes, it did. You hurt a fledgling.”

 

Turning the nob for the hot water, he waits for it to warm as he undresses. Nudity was a common occurrence at his former House, so he’s not bothered having the other man in the room. However, he is bothered by the incessant stream of questions.

 

“Derek, did you hear what I said?”

 

“No.”

 

“Dammit, pay attention. You _hurt_ a fledgling. Please tell me you had to, that she attacked you or something.”

 

Something tries to click in his mind, to remember what he’s talking about, but he ignores it.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“So you’re saying she’s lying?”

 

The familiar feeling of guilt surfaces, but he’s not sure why.

 

“I guess,” he mutters with a shrug.

 

“You guess? Hale, either she is or she isn’t, which is it?”

 

Raising his head, he makes the mistake of looking in the mirror. The skin on his chest is a searing red and badly blistered. Parts of it are even black. Most of the skin along his arms, neck, and face is tinged pink. His hair is thinner than it had been, crisped strands still clinging to his body. It’s his wrists he notices the most though. There’s distinctive finger prints circling them, bright red and too obvious.

 

“Derek…” Kincaid mutters, staring at his reflection.

 

“Nothing happened,” he murmurs automatically.

 

“Right,” Kincaid says slowly. “You keep telling yourself that, kid.”

 

Derek wordlessly gets into the shower, immediately switching the water to cold when the heat is too much for his already charred skin.

 

“I’ll…just get you some baggies, I guess,” Kincaid mutters before leaving.

 

He lets the water pour down his body, staring as it turns pink and whirls down the drain. Hair makes its way down as well and he idly wonders how much was burned off. Derek continues to watch the water, falling into a trance. He doesn’t hear the door open or the curtain being pulled back. A part of him figures it’s probably her or maybe the other one, but a larger part of him no longer cares. Let it be her, let her kill him.

 

“Drink, kid,” Kincaid mutters before a familiar tube is being nudged against his lips. Still moving on autopilot, he sucks the liquid into his mouth and swallows. It shutters through him, healing his skin, but not pulling him out of his head like it normally does. He vaguely realizes Kincaid helping him out of the shower, getting him into his clothes, and into bed.

 

Everything’s very far away and he barely notices when he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Allison next. Just a warning: there won't be another new Teen Wolf fledgling until chapter 6. Until then it will still be Derek and Allison dealing with drama, holidays, and visitation day.
> 
> Hope you're all still enjoying.


	4. Be My Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A school dance turns violent and a lonely Visitation Day opens up new possibilities for friendships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Severe Bullying and Attempted Rape
> 
> For more details about the above warning, please read the end notes.

**Allison**

 

“He hurt you?”

 

Allison rips her hand free of her aunt’s grip and takes a step back.

 

“That doesn’t matter,” she says.

 

She turns away from her, fiddling with the bandage covering her wound.  It was healing much faster than it would have as a human, but still not as fast as an adult vampyre.

 

“What?  Of course it-”

 

“Was it you?” she asks, still not looking at her.

 

“Was _what_ me?”

 

“Did you attack him?”

 

Kate huffs and leans closer to make eye contact.

 

“Is that what he’s saying? That I _attacked_ him?”

 

Allison sighs and looks away from her again.

 

“Hey, listen to me,” Kate says, gently turning her around.  “I would never hurt anyone, you must know that.  I’m sure he’s just being dramatic-”

 

“But you have hurt him before,” she cuts in.  “I _saw_ you.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“In the gym, the day before Imbolc.  You _burned_ him with your fingers,” Allison says.

 

Her aunt huffs in apparent amusement, making her frown.  She didn’t see how any of this was funny.

 

“Honey, I was just teasing him,” she says.  Kate sighs and her gaze darts away in what looks to be embarrassment.  “We used to date, when he lived here.  I guess I’m still upset about how things ended.  He-,” she stops to take a breath.  “He broke my heart, you know?  I never really got over it.  That boy was the love of my life,” she says with a sad little shrug.

 

Allison frowns, not knowing how to respond.  Her aunt is still looking to the floor and the silence grows awkward.

 

“So...you’re telling me it wasn’t you.  That someone else with the power to create fire out of thin air attacked him,” she says a little incredulously.

 

“I told you, I could _never_ hurt him.  Nyx gave me this gift to help people, not hurt them.  Besides, I’m not the only one with a fire affinity at this school.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Plenty of vampyres have an affinity to fire,” she says vaguely.  “How do you even know someone attacked him?  Maybe he hurt _himself_.  You ever think of that?”

 

Allison rolls her eyes, arms crossing.  “Why would he do that?”

 

Her aunt sighs and sits down on her bed.

 

“Alli, you don’t know him like I do.  He’s messed up, okay?  After his family died, he just...lost it,” she says with a shrug.  “He started attacking people and hurting himself.  I mean, you’ve seen how he acts.  He’s not exactly the most stable guy in the world,” she says with a little huff.

 

“But-”

 

“Are you into him?” Kate suddenly asks, head tilted and eyes narrowed.

 

“What?  No, of course not-”

 

“You don’t have to lie to me, sweetie.”

 

“I’m _not_ lying!”

 

Kate was still staring at her with her eyes narrowed.  She gets up from the bed and saunters over.

 

“I certainly hope not.  He’s _much_ too old for you, Allison.”

 

“It’s not like that-”

 

“Then what’s it like?  Tell me,” she says.  Allison takes a step back, unnerved by her demeanor.  “Did you think you two were becoming friends?  Is that it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Allison answers, uncomfortable.  Kate huffs and takes her chin in hand, forcing her to look at her.

 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.  Derek Hale doesn’t _have_ friends.  He’s not capable of that basic social function,” she says lowly.  Her aunt leans in closer, her fingers too warm against her skin.  “And Alli?  I trust you to tell me if it ever _does_ become more.  Understand?”

 

Allison nods stiffly, afraid to disagree with her.

 

“Good girl,” she whispers.

 

She gently pats her cheek before releasing her.  The woman strolls to the door, winking before closing it behind her.  Allison lets out the breath she’d been holding, hugging her arms around herself.  She couldn’t believe what Kate was suggesting.   _Obviously_ Derek is way too old for her, that was a given.  Besides, they had barely scratched the surface of friendship, let alone... _that_.  Allison shudders at the very idea.  The warrior still scared her more often than not.  How could she ever be interested in someone like that?

 

She sits down on her bed, curling up against the wall to think.  Everything was such a mess.  Her parents were gone, the only friend she’d made died, and now the only one she felt comfortable talking to hated her.  She doesn’t understand what happened.  There was no other reason for him to have reacted like that unless Kate had done something.

 

Allison had gone to the kitchen for a snack, when she’d seen the blood streaked all over the floor.  Following the trail, she’d been shocked to see Derek injured and curled in on himself.  She hadn’t noticed the knife until it was thrust against her throat.  All she wanted to do was help him, but he kept yelling at her to shut up.  When he started talking to himself, she knew she had to get someone.  The first person she ran into was the other warrior - Kincaid, he said his name was.  He told her to find her mentor and patch up her hand, that he’d deal with Derek.

 

What he meant by that, she’s not sure she wants to know.

 

Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice at first when Master jumps into her lap.  When he starts meowing, she shakes herself out of it and hugs him tight.  He rubs his face against hers in comforting nuzzles.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” she tells him.  On one hand, she’s scared to approach the warrior, but on the other, she’d gotten used to having him around.

 

The familiar doesn’t seem to have an answer either.  With a sigh, she slumps further onto the bed, pulling the covers around the both of them.  She stares at the bandage covering her hand until her eyelids begin drooping.

 

The day is filled with nightmares of him.

 

* * *

 

Allison didn’t see Derek for several days after the incident.  He wasn’t in the halls on patrol, or sitting in on classes, nor glaring at fledglings during their meals.  Everyone around her acted as if nothing was wrong.  The warriors, however, seemed to be scrambling as they covered the youngest’s shifts.  Fledgling fighting was at an all-time high, not to mention the disputes rising among the professors.  She’d seen more than a few shouting matches between Jenny and who she believes to be the Horse Mistress.  Then there was the still simmering tension between the two high priestesses.

 

She also learned who Duke was.  He was the Drama professor and she caught him taunting Professor Morrell on more than one occasion.

 

Allison wouldn’t say things were falling apart without Derek, but they were definitely a bit of a mess.  The more rowdy fledglings seemed to obey him more than the other two warriors - no matter his smaller size.

 

It wasn’t until she was helping Jen and Steve hang paper hearts from the Library ceiling that she saw him.  He was back on patrol and had just stepped into the room.  The warrior’s face was utterly blank of emotion, his shoulders tense as he made his way through the sitting area and into the stacks.  Her two friends glance at her nervously, but none of them move to approach.  They all continue to hang decorations for the upcoming holiday - something she had to help prepare for but couldn’t even go to because it was for the Fourth Formers.

 

They called it _Plurimos Dilgo_.  As far as she could tell it was just a Valentine’s Day Dance, but they treated it like the prom.  All the Fourth Formers were freaking out about getting the perfect outfit and scrambling to find a date.

 

Eyes darting about for more tape, she sighs when she finds an empty roll.  Climbing down from the ladder, she makes her way to the back, where the supply closet is.

 

Her heart leaps into her throat when the door is pushed closed, handle being ripped from her grasp in the process.

 

“Derek,” she says in a quiet greeting.  She’s finding it hard to look at him, either feeling the knife against her throat, or seeing him covered in blood and shaking.

 

“Allison,” he responds just as quietly.

 

“What do you-?” she’s cut off by her own gasp.

 

He’d taken her right hand in his left, staring down at the small pink scar across her palm.  The House Doctor said it would fade within a few more days, but it’s still clearly visible right now.  He swipes a thumb over it, a frown coming to his face.

 

“Allison,” he says again.  “Who hurt you?”

 

Her gaze finally settles on him, the question confusing her.  His tone, however, was laced with apprehension and guilt.

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

The man continues to stare at her palm, at the scar, his thumb still swiping over it.

 

“It was you,” she says unsteadily.

 

Derek nods before releasing her hand.  She quickly pulls it into her chest, crossing her arms protectively.

 

“I’m-,” he starts.  He takes a breath, looking out the window instead of at her.  “I shouldn’t have.”

 

Not knowing what to say, she simply shrugs.  She’s tempted to say ‘no, you really shouldn’t have’ but she thinks maybe that would only make the situation worse.  They stand in silence for several minutes, her glancing over the books on the shelf, him staring out the window.

 

“What happened?” she asks.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You’re lying.   _Something_ obviously happened.  Someone hurt you too.”

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

“Did my...did she attack you?”

 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

 

Allison huffs, frustrated with his lack of answers.

 

“It was my aunt, wasn’t it?  Aunt Kate hurt-”

 

“Shut up,” he snaps, eyes darting to her.

 

“No, tell me what she did.”

 

“Nothing hap-”

 

“Yes, it did.  Kate-”

 

She takes in a sharp breath when he lunges at her, hand outstretched, hovering mere inches from her neck - as if he was about to grab her, strangle her even.  Derek is rigid with tension, clearly holding himself back from hurting her.  Allison’s heart is pounding hard and fast as fear trickles into her system.

 

“Nothing.  Happened,” he says slowly.

 

She nods frantically, too afraid to say anything, too afraid to move away.  They stay like that until he blinks and looks up from the neck his hand was still hovering over.

 

“You need to stay away from me,” he says.

 

The fledgling nods again, not willing to argue with him.

 

“Go,” he orders, voice still quiet.

 

Allison slowly backs away before turning and hastily walking out of the library.  Her friends would have to handle the decorations by themselves.  She walks in a daze to the dining hall, the encounter running on a loop in her mind.  As she filled her plate with the wheat pasta smothered in sauce, she can’t help wonder who she’s supposed to believe.  Her aunt who says Derek is crazy and most likely hurt _himself_ , or the Warrior who denies anything even happened.  She’s known both of them for only a short amount of time.

 

In the end, she supposes it doesn’t really matter.  If Derek won’t say what happened and her aunt says she didn’t do anything, then there isn’t much she can do to help.  She doesn’t even understand why she _wants_ to help.  Derek had been nice, but clearly he’s more dangerous than she originally thought.

 

She sits with her group, the two from the library having joined by now as well.  None of them ask where she’d disappeared to or why she’s silent.  She hadn’t expected them to.  The hole Patty left in the group is a gaping wound, seemingly never to be healed.  She feels her absence every day and wonders why Nyx wouldn’t have let her live.

 

Tired of picking at her food, Allison scoops up her tray and dumps her dinner in the trash.  She walks out of the dining hall and out into the fresh air.  Following the cobblestone path, she takes a leisurely walk around the building.  She’s so deep into her thoughts that it takes her awhile to notice the shadows starting to converge on themselves.  Snapping her head up, she searched for the boy that must be the cause of it.  Hades hadn’t spoken to her since that day in the foyer, but he smiles to her in the halls when they pass by.

 

“Hades?” she calls, squinting into the darkness.

 

The only response she receives is a deep sigh, carried to her by the sudden wind.  She hesitates to go further, unsure of what’s happening.  When the breeze calms, Allison takes a deep breath to also calm her racing heart.  Now that the wind isn’t whistling in her ears, she can hear people talking.  Taking a chance by following the sounds, she reaches the corner, cautiously peeking around it.

 

In the darkest part of the courtyard she can make out a man and woman talking.  Or maybe arguing would be more appropriate.  Sneaking along the side of the building, her jaw drops a tiny bit at who she sees.  She was right about Hades being nearby, but he wasn’t the one controlling the shadows.

 

“I haven’t learned anything yet.  It’s too soon, I haven’t had enough-”

 

The crack of a hard slap echoes through the courtyard.

 

“I don’t want to hear your excuses.  I asked you to complete a simple task-”

 

“But, Priestess-”

 

“No!”

 

A strange black aura pulses around the Priestess.  She reaches a hand out to her side, seemingly petting something with her fingers.  Allison squints, but can’t see anything other than the aura around her.

 

“Since you have not completed your task, you owe me a debt,” Jenny says.  She didn’t raise her voice this time.  Her calm demeanor was more unnerving than her anger.

 

“If you just give me more time-”

 

“Don’t worry.  I never take a mission away once given.  But you still need to pay for your failure so far,” she says.  Her tone sounds sympathetic, but the smirk on her face tells Allison otherwise.  The fledgling in front of her hangs his head in acceptance, eyes shut tight as he waits for something.

 

The aura around Jenny squirms and a moment later Hades is crying out in agony, collapsing to his knees.  Allison can’t see how she’s hurting him, but the pleasure on her face makes it obvious that the Priestess is getting _something_ out of his torture.  When it’s over and Hades is lying face down in the grass, panting and twitching, Jenny hums in delight before practically skipping away as if she hadn’t just tortured a kid.  Allison remains still and silent, shrouded by the shadows of the corner.  Though she didn’t make a sound, Jenny still paused by the path, head whipping in her direction.  There’s no way she can know-

 

“It’s not nice to eavesdrop, Allison.”

 

Lips parting in shock, she looks around, wondering if she should run, hide, or confront the Priestess.

 

“I don’t suggest running,” she says.

 

Jenny makes the decision for her by striding forward, coming to stop a few feet from her.

 

“I know what you just saw must be very confusing,” she says.  “I hope you understand that I don’t punish fledglings lightly.  As your High Priestess, it’s my responsibility to make sure you stay on Nyx’s path.  The boy had...been straying, for lack of a better term.”

 

When Allison doesn’t say anything, Jenny’s eyes narrow.

 

“I trust you know not to make a big deal about this.  Hades needed to be taught a lesson.  I _helped_ him,” she says slowly, as if talking to a child.  “You understand, Allison?”

 

She nods, still not trusting her voice.

 

“We shall talk again soon, fledgling.  Until then, I suggest you return to your dorm.  Wouldn’t want to be caught out past curfew.”

 

With another nervous nod, Allison shuffles towards the main door, hesitant to turn her back on the woman.  The other fledgling still lies in the grass by the forest.  She wishes she could help him, but the Priestess watches her all the way to the door.  Quickly stepping inside, she closes it behind her and peers out the window.

 

Jenny continues to watch.

 

Back in her room, Allison pulls her familiar into her arms and holds him tightly, trying to brush away the lingering panic.  She doesn’t care what people think - Jenny was not a good person.

 

* * *

 

The next night during her fourth hour class, they’re paired off again for practice.  She’s ecstatic when Josh makes a beeline right for her, his eyes alight with the same happiness they always are.  She doesn’t see him around much save for this class, but whenever they pass in the halls he says hello.

 

“Still working with a foil?” he asks.

 

Allison nods and he hands over the weapon.  As they warm up, his gaze keeps darting to her again and again.

 

“So, how are you doing?” he asks hesitantly.

 

“I don’t know.  I can’t really get this third form right,” she says, trying it again.  Her wrist aches with the position and she fumbles her foil again.  With a huff, she snatches it back up and tries again.

 

“It’ll take time,” he mutters.  “But, um, I actually meant how you are since you know...a few weeks ago.”

 

On instinct, her gaze wants to pull towards the area of floor where her friend’s blood had spilled across the wooden floor, soaking deep into the crevices.  She heard it took two bottle of bleach to remove the stains.  The fumes from it even after all these weeks still linger and it makes her want to run, to forget what happened.

 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” a gentle voice says.

 

The foil drops from her shaking hand as she stares up into his sky blue eyes, his brows pulled in concern.  She takes a few deep breaths and he nods as if he understands.

 

“It’ll get better.  When I first started, the girl I was…” he says, trailing off.  “My girlfriend died within the first month.  So, I know what you’re going through.  But trust me it gets better.”

 

Allison blinks at that, surprised that he shared a small piece of his story.  Everyone around here seems to pretend that these things don’t happen, as if they’ve never moved on from the denial stage of grief.  Others simply just didn’t care because it’d never happened to someone they were close with.

 

“Thank you,” she says and means it.  Josh smiles a bit and nods again.  His eyes dart away nervously and he shuffles his feet.

 

“This is probably really bad timing but...would you maybe want to...I mean, I know we don’t really know each other, but would you…be my valentine?” he asks in a rush, his cheeks turning pink.

 

Her brows shoot up in even greater surprise and a genuine smile comes to her face. It’s obvious he means the dance.  She almost wants to ask if he’s serious, if he knows what her reputation is, how low on the totem pole she is - but doesn’t.

 

“Sure, I’d love to,” she says, trying to contain her smile.  Josh is smiling ridiculously too and she wants to lunge into a hug to thank him for being so nice and interested in her, but she doesn’t.

 

“Can I pick you up at your dorm or do you wanna meet in the gymnasium?” he asks.

 

“My dorm is good,” she says, still smiling like a lunatic.

 

When the bell chimes, Josh backs away with a wave, heading for the changing room.  Allison picks up her foil and is about to do the same when an arm snakes around her middle, pulling her to a stop.

 

“Did I just hear that right?” Apophis whispers in her ear.  “Allison Argent actually has a date?”

 

“Get off,” she says, struggling to pull away.

 

“You really think you can trust Josh?” he asks even quieter.  Allison stills, the doubt she’s been pushing away creeping to the surface.  “Don’t worry, Allison.  My buddy Horus will be there to protect you.”

 

Allison turns in his grip and shoves him as hard as she can.  His arm loosens and she doesn’t hesitate to run for the changing room.  She slams the door behind her and leans against it to catch her breath.  Glancing up, she finds all the other girls staring at her, some giggling quietly at her expense.

 

She rushes for the stall again and locks herself in.  Her face is burning from embarrassment, her hands shaking from fear.  Apophis was wrong, he was just trying to scare her.  Josh was a good person, a nice boy.  Allison didn’t have anything to worry about.

 

After saying it over and over again in her head, she eventually emerges from the stall.  Crossing over to her locker, she spins it open, only to be sprinkled with water.  Someone had soaked her clothes and there was writing in permanent marker on the inside walls.  The messages mostly read ‘slut’ and ‘whore’.  The ones that actually bothered her, however, were ‘Can’t you find your own boyfriend?’ and ‘Isis will kill you’.

 

Isis, as in Apophis’ psycho girlfriend.  Ignoring the wetness in her eyes, she slams the locker closed and stomps her way out of the room.  Students whisper and giggle as she walks through the halls, just as they always do.  The girls either glare or laugh, the boys either _leer_ or laugh.  Allison keeps her head high, not willing to crumble under their cruelty.

 

Back in her room, however, she leans against the door and lets the tears slowly trail down her cheeks.  She didn’t understand what she did to deserve any of this.  Their laughter and Apophis’ words keep circling in her head.  Was he really just trying to scare her or could she not trust Josh?  She hadn’t seen any reason _not_ to trust him.

 

Huffing at herself, she angrily wipes her tears away before rifling through her closet for a new outfit.  Once she finds something decent, she lays it out on her bed before turning her shower on.  Allison stares at herself in the mirror, what little mascara she’d had on having smeared down her face.  Her lashes are clumped together from crying.  Her jaw is still a little discolored from where Apophis hit her, but it’s barely noticeable now.  After undressing, she stares at herself some more.  She’d never been self-conscious about her appearance before, but she wonders if she’s too pale, too thin.  Maybe that’s why the other girls laugh at her.  Or maybe it’s because her breasts were smaller than theirs.  She never really cared about that before, but she’d noticed when Apophis had felt her up, that they weren’t really even a handful.

 

A sob breaks out of her when she realizes she’s using his attack to decide if her body is desirable or not.  She sucks in a quick breath and turns away from the mirror.  In the shower, she lets the water wash over her and take all those thoughts down the drain.  She wasn’t going to let them all make her hate herself.  Maybe she wasn’t the best person out there - not the nicest, most helpful, or prettiest - but she was decent enough that she knows she doesn’t deserve all their hatred.

 

Finishing, she steps out and wipes the fog from the mirror.  The outlined crescent moon on her forehead is bright against her skin.  She wishes she could say it brings out her eyes or makes the darkness of her hair stand out, but it doesn’t.  It simply highlights the bags under her eyes, which has her gaze focusing on her high cheekbones and the hard set of her jaw.  Allison huffs at her reflection and dresses to finish lunch and classes.

 

* * *

 

Monday night, she’s slipping into the dress Kate picked out for her.  Allison hadn’t wanted to shop with her, but she’d been persistent.  She’d wanted something simple, maybe something in a nice gray or silver color, nothing higher than knee length.  Her mother had always taught her to dress modestly, not to show too much of her body.  She’s never been one to wear very high heels either, sticking with decorative flats.

 

Kate had been against all of that.  She’d said she had the body and face of a model and should show it off.  Allison didn’t believe her, but she let the woman drag her around the local stores and hold up skimpy dresses to compare with other flashy ones.  She’d tried to be appreciative, but as she stares at herself in the mirror now, she doesn’t know what the fuck she’d been thinking.

 

The dress was pink - or _rose_ as the judgmental woman at the store had corrected her - that clung tightly to her waist and came to just above her knee.  Allison focuses on her chest, at where the diamond cutout is showing off a pale patch of skin.  She frowns at how obvious it is that she’s not wearing a bra, her nipples standing out from the fabric rubbing against them.  Honestly, she’s probably overreacting about it, but she’s never felt so naked in her entire life.  Shaking her head, she turns from the mirror to grab her shoes.  She winces as she puts them on, the stiff material digging into her skin already.  They’re black with a thin high heel and very sharp points at her toes.  They remind her of her mother.

 

Her door creeps open and Kate pops her head in.  She grins wide as her gaze travels over her.  Allison gapes at her, taking in her long-sleeved blue leather dress, and sequined open-toed heels.  Though the outfit was impressive, it was her tattoo that kept gaining her attention.  It was vibrant and dangerous, the hue of the dress bringing out the gory details of it.  Kate strides forward, her smile widening.

 

“Stand up, let me see,” she says, taking her by the hand.

 

Allison wobbles a bit in her heels, but remains upright.  She doesn’t understand how she’s supposed to dance in these things.  Her aunt spins her slowly, taking in the outfit.

 

“You look _gorgeous_.  I was right about this dress, it’s perfect on you,” she says.

 

She manages a small smile for her as she brushes her hair out of her face.  She’d left it down in gentle waves, parting it on the side so it sweeps over her forehead.  Kate reaches out, her hand hovering by her jaw.

 

“Honey, let me fix your makeup-”

 

“Oh, no, really, it’s fine,” she mumbles, backing away a bit.

 

Her aunt didn’t wear much makeup save for her eyes, but Allison still didn’t want her ‘fixing’ hers.  She’d left it subtle like she usually does - foundation under her eyes, some powder, a little blush, mascara, a tiny bit of eyeshadow on her lids.  Allison had chosen a rosy gloss for her lips, but barely used any of it.

 

“Don’t you want your eyes to pop more?  What about your lips?  I have a nice red that would-”

 

“No, that’s okay.  I like this color,” she says.  Kate raises a brow as she looks her over and Allison’s hand flutters around her jaw, wanting to cover her mouth, but refraining.  “Does it look bad?” she asks.

 

“No, not at all,” she mutters and looks away.

 

Allison shifts uneasily, crossing an arm over to grip the other.  She didn’t fully believe Kate, but _she_ thought she looked nice.  So what if it wasn’t really fancy or sexy?  Allison liked being simple, liked keeping covered and not standing out too much.  Besides, if she walked into that gymnasium in anything more revealing than this dress or dark, smoky makeup, everyone would stare at her.  Allison already has enough attention on her.  She doesn’t need to make herself a bigger target.

 

“How about these earrings, then?” Kate asks, holding up a small box.  She takes the lid off to reveal dangling oval shaped white earrings.  Allison blinks in surprise, glad to find they weren’t very flashy.

 

“Yes, these are great, thank you,” she replies timidly.  Kate grins and helps her put them on, along with a large ring of matching color.  She thought it was a little too big, but didn’t complain.  It all came together with a black clutch purse decorated with spikes.  She felt kind of silly carrying it, but she needed something to keep her phone in anyway.

 

A faint knock wrapped on her door and her aunt flounced over to answer it.  She whipped it open, startling the boy on the other side.  Allison almost laughed at his wide eyes, but contained her nervousness.  Josh gulped as Kate stared at him, sizing him up.  Rushing forward, Allison greeted him quietly to try and save him.

 

His eyes dart to her and then back to Kate before doing a double-take at his date.  A surprised smile comes to his face as he sweeps his gaze over her.  Allison stands still, trying not to fidget.

 

“Wow, Allison, you look great,” he says, voice shaky.  Hearing him so nervous has her relaxing slightly, ignoring Kate’s snort at his comment.

 

“Thank you, so do you.”

 

He was wearing a nice dark suit and she almost giggles at his crooked bowtie.  Biting her lip, she reaches out to straighten it for him.  Josh blushes before shoving a short-stemmed rose in her direction.  She beams and thanks him.

 

“Well aren’t you two cute,” Kate mutters.  She then scowls, steps around the boy, and prances her way down the hall.

 

“Aunt Kate?” Allison calls nervously.

 

“I have my own date to wrangle,” she calls back, wiggling her fingers in a goodbye as she turns the corner.

 

Allison sighs, but takes Josh’s offered arm and lets him lead her down the hall.  She worries about her aunt’s cryptic comment, but remembers how Derek told her to stay away from him.  He was right, of course, she _should_ stay away from him.

 

It doesn’t stop her from worrying.

 

* * *

 

All her worries evaporated the moment she set foot in the decorated gymnasium.  She had no idea what kind of theme they were trying to pull off, but there were colorful ribbons hanging from the ceiling and confetti all over the floor.  Now, as she laughs and dances to LMFAO’s newest hit single, she can’t remember what she was so worried about.

 

_“Every day I’m shufflin’.”_

 

Josh is laughing along with her as he moves his feet and waves his arms.  He’s not following the actual moves at all, just doing his own thing and not caring that people are staring at him like he’s nuts.  He reaches out and takes her hands, raising them up in the air as they shake and wiggle from side to side.  Allison’s cheeks are hurting from smiling so much and she’s sure her hair's a mess as she turns her head to and fro.

 

The crowd - smaller than at her old schools - jumps to the music, their hands in the air as the lights zig zag and flash across the room.  She’d been worried earlier for a split second about what a fledgling vampyre party would be like, but she’s found it’s just like every other high school party.

 

A hand is suddenly on her backside and she jolts in surprise.  A boy somewhere behind her laughs, but she isn’t sure who.  Ignoring it, she turns back to Josh, who grabs her hands again.  As they dance, she notices a few of the girls nearby are staring at her and giggling behind their hands.  She glances down at herself, but her dress still looks alright.  Letting go of Josh, she pats at her hair to make sure it’s not too crazy - it isn’t.  She would think maybe they’re still laughing at Josh’s dancing, but they’re not even looking his way.

 

Her date gets closer and prompts her to jump along with the music again.  Another hand slides across her backside.  Allison startles again, bumping into Josh - who wraps a cautious arm around her waist.  She allows it, trusting him more than the strangers behind her.

 

It’s not just a slide the next time, but a full on grab at her ass.  She yelps at the pinch and Josh frowns at someone over her shoulder before maneuvering her to his other side.  Allison is both delighted and surprised at the protective move.  The rest of the song goes by fine, as long as she ignores the giggling girls aimed her way.

 

The song morphs into a Bruno Mars number and Josh leans close to shout in her ear.

 

“I’m gonna get us some punch!  Keep dancing!”

 

Allison nods and then bites her lip nervously as she watches him leave.  She wishes he’d waited until after this song, seeing as how it’s on the romantic side, but figures she’ll have other chances later in the night.  Josh was proving to be very cute and a great date - he held doors for her and everything.  It was old school, but she didn’t mind.  As long as he didn’t mind her doing the same if they progressed past tonight.  She’s never been in a relationship before, but she thinks she’d like to take control every now and then - plan dates, hold doors, pull out chairs, etc.

 

She huffs to herself and shakes her head.  This was just one date, one dance - she was thinking too far ahead.  Allison sways to the music, watching the couples around her dance close, their arms wrapped around each other.  Some were trading light pecks, but others were literally trying to each other’s faces.  She’d never kissed anyone before.  Allison wonders if she should try to kiss Josh tonight, or wait for him to make a move.

 

In a darkened corner behind her, she faintly makes out the long blonde mane and leather dress of her aunt.  The woman’s gaze is trained on something by the windows and when Allison follows it, she finds Derek standing guard - a watchful eye on the student body.  She frowns at the almost predatory expression on Kate’s face, but knows it’s not her business and she can’t get involved.

 

_“If my body was on fire, oh, you’d watch me burn down in flames.”_

 

Allison almost screams when she feels someone grab her ass with both hands.  They squeeze hard before slapping her rear.  They run off laughing before she can punch them in the face.  She knew she shouldn’t have worn this dress.  It was drawing too much attention.  A group of girls in the corner laughs loudly - a pretty red-head pointing at her.  Allison glares at them and tries to move off the dance floor.

 

She searches for the beverage and snack table, wanting to find her date.  Seeing his dark hair over the crowd, she makes her way over.  At first, she doesn’t notice them, but two girls are chatting with him by the punch bowl.  Allison stutters to a stop when she recognizes one of the girls.  She was friends with Isabella - the girl that’d approached her in the cafeteria.  Her red hair was up in a half-do and she was showing so much skin that Allison couldn’t believe the professors let her get away with it.  It was a sparkly pink spaghetti strap crop-top, showing her entire midriff, including the dangling diamond ring in her naval.  Her long flowing skirt had a sheer cut-out near her pelvis, showing off a red strip of hair.  The girl was undeniably beautiful and not someone Allison could ever compete with.

 

Josh was talking with her, his eyes roaming over her body before shyly snapping back up to her face.  The other girl was petite and more cute than beautiful - even in her diamond bodice and silken pink dress.  She mostly twirled her hair and laughed whenever the first one smiled widely, as if that were her queue.  Allison watches as her date fawns over the redhead, offering her punch and snacks whenever there was a lull in conversation.

 

She thinks of going over there and trying to butt in, but doesn’t want to come off jealous or clingy.  Instead, she lingers by the edge of the crowd, trying to pretend to dance.

 

The music suddenly makes a horrible static sound and the flashing lights stop.  A bright light from a projector highlights the wall behind the DJ.  The crowd murmurs in confusion and the chaperones are instantly on alert.  Music starts back up as an image flickers onto the wall.

 

Allison’s heart skips a beat.

 

_“Na Na Na, come on…”_

 

Up on the wall, a 14 year-old Allison dances in her room, singing into her hairbrush.  It’d been some Britney song and her friend had filmed it during a sleepover.  It was put on YouTube, but she hadn’t cared at the time - it had been innocent.  Maybe her dancing had been a little suggestive, but she was just having fun.  Her younger self turns around for the camera and teasingly shakes her ass, giggling all the way.  Words splash across the image in red lettering.

 

_Born a whore._

 

Allison gapes, shocked beyond words.

 

_“Feels so good being bad…”_

 

A now fledgling vampyre Allison comes on screen, on her back, wrists pinned to the floor with Horus above her.  The picture doesn’t show her face, only his with a giant grin and her body arching beneath him.  She’d been trying to throw him off, but out of context it looks the opposite.

 

More words splatter across the wall.

 

_Begging for it!_

 

Tears spring to her eyes, but she can’t stop watching.  By now the crowd is either staring in shock as well, laughing, or hollering cheers of “Yeah, girl, get it!”

 

The professors chaperoning are trying to wrangle the crowd.  Derek is making his way through the fledglings, trying to get to the stage where the projector is.

 

_“‘Cause I may be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it…”_

 

Sweat-covered and breathing hard, another image appears of her holding a foil in the gymnasium - just a few feet of where she stands now.

 

“No,” she whispers.  The tears fall down her hot cheeks.

 

It isn’t just a picture this time, but a video.  By the angle, it was probably taken over by the exit doors.  The person shooting zooms in and the volume increases.  She can hear her own breathing and Apophis’ quiet murmurings.

 

“That’s a good girl,” he says.  His voice echoes through the room.

 

A shudder runs through her at the memory.  The camera had only gotten a side-view of them, once again not showing her face.  The crowd had erupted into a roar of laughter, some boys still hollering and whistling.

 

_“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me…”_

 

Another video of her and Apophis, his arm slithering around her waist, fingers splaying out wide against her abdomen.  The words across the wall were taken from her locker.

 

_Slut.  Whore.  Can’t you find your own boyfriend?  Isis will kill you._

 

At that last one, a group of boys laughs loudly and points at the screen, throwing their heads back as they elbow each other in the sides.  By now, Derek has made it the stage and is arguing with the DJ - who looks flustered as he tries to shut the projector off.

 

“Allison!”

 

Turning, she finds her aunt rushing to her side.  She reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder and tries to steer her out of the room.

 

_“Love is great, love is fine…”_

 

Kate stops dead in her tracks, eyes narrowed at the wall.  Allison looks back at the video and covers her mouth in horror.  She’s in the gymnasium and once again covered in sweat, but it isn’t Apophis who’s with her.  Derek stands before her, his fingers gripping her chin and lifting her face up.  Though it’s the furthest thing from the truth, it looks as if they’re about to kiss.

 

On stage, Derek does a double take at the screen and then freezes.  His eyes widen and even from across the room, she can see his face go utterly pale - a harsh contrast to the leather jacket around his shoulders.

 

_Guess age doesn’t matter to these two!_

 

Allison’s face is surely streaked black as more tears fall.  She turns to her aunt and whimpers at the disbelieving expression on her face.

 

“You lied to me,” she says lowly.

 

“No, Aunt Kate-” she tries, reaching out.  The woman backs away from her, eyes full of a rage Allison has never seen before.

 

_“Give it to me strong and meet me in my boudoir.”_

 

A picture clearly taken between library shelves appears - again of her and Derek.  He’s cradling her hand and she’s gaping, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed.  It switches to his hand reaching out, hovering by her face.  She closes her eyes, her breathing rapid, as she realizes it looks like he’s about to caress her face.

 

A final message slashes across the wall in all caps - _Once a whore always a whore._

 

As she turns to run, she hears a loud crash behind her and the crowd shrieks.  Looking back, she sees an enraged Derek has ripped the wires out of the projector and thrown the machine at the wall.  The other professors are filing students out of the gymnasium and Ennis is pulling his fellow warrior from the stage.

 

Allison turns and runs from the room, kicking off her heels to carry them so she can move faster.  All the way across the school, as she’s turning into the lobby, someone slams into her and then grabs her around the waist.

 

“Where’s the fire, baby?” Horus asks with a chuckle.

 

“No, let go of me!”

 

The boy roughly shoves her backward into some kind of supply closet.  When she hears the door slam closed, she punches at his chest and kicks at his knees, but he only grunts at her.  Allison aims for his face and Horus easily grabs her fist in his large hand.  He shoves her further into the closet, backing her against some shelves.

 

“No!  No!  Get away from me, let me go!”

 

“Shh, honey, be real quiet for me,” he whispers in her ear.

 

She feels a hand graze down her hip and then fingers trailing along her hemline, across her thigh.

 

“No!  Help!  Someone help!” she screams.

 

“Quiet,” he snaps.

 

His hand moves to her inner thigh and travels the length of it, beneath her dress.  Allison shoves at him and he shoves back harder.  She closes her legs tighter together, trying to stop his hand from going further.  He laughs at that and wiggles his fingers against her skin, wedging them along no matter how hard she clenches, no matter how hard she tries to stop them.  His other hand releases her arm and grazes along her front.  His fingers sneak into the cut-out between her breasts.

 

“I really like your dress, Ally,” he whispers.

 

“Stop!  Stop!” she cries.  She takes a deep breath and screams - no words, only screaming.

 

Horus curses and clamps a hand over her mouth, muffling her sounds.

 

“I said be quiet.”

 

When she feels his fingers against her underwear, fondling an area no one but herself had ever touched before, Allison shoves at his shoulders with all her strength.  He actually stumbles back a few steps and she screams, rushing towards the door.  He grabs her around the waist, just as he’d done that day in the common room.

 

“No!  Let go of me!”

 

Allison reaches for the doorknob, trying to get a grip on it to wrench it open, but he pulls her away.  She twists in his embrace and lands a punch to his jaw.  He retaliates with a sharp slap across her face.  Copper fills her mouth as the skin on her bottom lip breaks open.  He grabs her roughly by the hair and shoves her face first against the wall.

 

“No!” she sobs.

 

“Stop whining, I know you want it,” he rasps.

 

She feels his hard groin press against her backside, his hand under her dress again.  Allison cries against the wall and kicks her feet back, trying to stab him with her heels.  She hears a zipper being pulled down and he’s pulling at her underwear.

 

_I can’t let this happen, I can’t let this happen, I can’t let this happen._

 

With a loud cry, Allison pushes away from the wall, making Horus stumble backward and lose his balance.  They both go down, her weight driving the air out of his lungs.  Rolling off him, she tries to surge to her feet, but his grip on her dress stops her.  He’s got his fingers clenched around the cut-out on her chest and she pulls away roughly, kicking him in the side at the same time.  With a tearing sound, she’s let loose.  Allison quickly stumbles to the door, rips it open, and runs.

 

She runs for the first exit door she sees, which leads her to some kind of back stairwell.  Allison stops short when she finds two familiar people arguing with each other.

 

“Are you crazy?  What were you thinking?”

 

It’s the red haired boy from her sketching class - the one that sat next to Hades.  He’s arguing with the blue-eyed girl Allison saw him sitting with that day in the cafeteria.

 

“I was only doing what I was told!  Isis said I had to!”

 

“Since when do you listen to _Isis_?” he asks incredulously.

 

“Isis?” Allison asks, out of breath.  “Isis told you to do what?”

 

Their eyes snap to her, having finally noticed her standing there.  The boy’s eyes widen as he looks her over and the girl gapes in what seems to be horror.

 

“I...I didn’t,” the girl stutters.  “They weren’t supposed to…” she says, trailing off with a shake of her head.

 

The boy takes a step towards her, a cautious hand reached out.  Allison moves away from him.

 

“Are you alright?  Did someone….I mean, your dress…,” he says, trailing off as well with a grimace.

 

Tears well up in her eyes and she quickly sidesteps the both of them to run out the door.  It leads her outside this time and she gulps in the fresh air.  She glances down at her dress, sobs breaking out of her as she sees the front of it is torn open and showing her midriff.  It only reminds her of that girl at the punch table and she idly wonders where Josh is - if he was part of all this.

 

“What have we here?”

 

Allison snaps her head up at the familiar voice and then shuffles back a few steps.  Heket rounds the corner in a tie-dye, strapless, flowing gown - her dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders.  A wide grin spreads across her pretty face as she glides closer, two other girls trailing after her.  She recognizes the one in a flaming red short dress that shows off her cleavage and stomach, the straps crossing at her collarbones.  She’s one of the 3 Blondes - a member of Isis’ inner circle.  Heket and the other girl must be in her clique as well.  The third girl is a smaller mousy brunette in a long, bright blue, mermaid sequined gown.  The three girls advance on her and circle around her, blocking her in.

 

“Looks like a scared little rabbit to me,” the blonde says with a smirk.

 

They laugh and Heket flicks her hand towards the sky.  Allison doesn’t understand what she’s doing, but then hears high pitched squeaks and hisses.  Dark shapes appear in the sky and she hears the flapping of wings.  She gapes as the cloud descends on them.

 

They fly around her, flapping at her hair and biting at her skin.

 

Allison screams as she tries to swat the bats away, but their bigger than she ever thought they would be.  They shriek and dig their teeth into her arms, neck, and chest.  She’s still screaming in terror as she tries to run from both the bats and the girls.

 

Her scream hits a pitch she didn’t think was possible when fire erupts around her.  She falls to the ground as she skids to avoid the flames encircling her.  They close her in, creating a ring around her.  Behind the glow, she sees the blonde’s hands raised.  The girl giggles manically as she stares at Allison.  As the heat licks at her skin, she wonders if this is the girl that’s been messing with Derek - if Kate had been telling the truth.

 

A bat takes a hard bite out of her neck and she feels a stream of blood soak into her dress.  She tries to crawl away from them, but can’t get far without the heat crisping her skin.  Her chest aches as she coughs.  She’s on all fours by this point, coughing and covering herself as best she can from the onslaught.

 

She can vaguely make out the third girl standing further back, hands over her mouth, eyes wide with fear.  Maybe she’s horrified at what her friends are doing, but she also doesn’t stop them.  She’s just as bad as the others.

 

“Hey!”

 

Someone - a boy - is yelling at the girls to stop, to back away from her.  There’s a fight, a girl - maybe more than one - is screaming.  The fire abruptly vanishes, the smoke lingering in the air the only proof it was ever there.

 

“Come on, come on, get up,” he’s saying, pulling her off the ground.

 

The darkness becomes heavy around them as he pulls her to her feet.

 

“Get back here you coward!” Heket shouts.

 

“You gotta run, Allison, come on,” he says.

 

She stumbles after him, no longer unsure of who he is.  The shadows pull more closely around them as he drags her towards the forest.

 

“Where the fuck did they go?” one of the girls asks.

 

“Towards the forest!  Go!”

 

“Shit!” Hades whispers harshly.

 

He comes to a dead stop and she crashes into his back.  All she can hear is her own wheezing breath as she tries to keep more sobs in, tries not to breakdown before she’s in a safe place.  Hades’ gaze is whipping around the forest, pulling her closer within the shadows he’s manipulating.

 

“It’s the shadows!  Look inside them!” Heket yells.

 

The boy by her side curses quietly before turning to her fully, hands gripping her arms.

 

“Allison, you have to get out of here.  You hear me?  You run into the forest and you don’t come out until I tell you.”

 

She wants to trust him, wants to hope that he’s really just trying to help her, but she hasn’t forgotten what she witnessed between him and Jenny.  Without knowing what that was about, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to trust him.

 

“Hey, focus.  If you don’t leave, those girls are going to kill you.  Do you understand?  This isn’t just some petty shit between teenage girls.  This is a _hit_.  They _will not stop_ ,” he says slowly.

 

His unwavering eye contact has the words finally sinking in and she nods.  When his hands release her, she stumbles further into the forest, glancing back every few feet.  She can hear the girls cackling as they chase their prey.  Flames leap into the sky and she sees Hades quickly duck and sprint in the opposite direction.  The shadows of the trees converge around him, almost making him completely invisible.  When he’s no longer within eyesight and it’s clear the girls have taken to following his path, Allison takes the opportunity to get even further away.

 

Her feet are bleeding from landing on sharp twigs and rocks, but she keeps going.  Allison runs until she can’t anymore and her legs give out beneath her.  Before she can hit the ground, someone catches her and pulls her against them securely.  Allison looks up, hoping-

 

“Hello, sweetheart.”

 

Fear clogs her throat as one of Isabella’s henchmen grin back at her.  Allison struggles to get out of his grasp, but he sighs heavily and holds her tighter.

 

“Don’t struggle.  You’ll only make this worse.”

 

She cries loudly and pushes at him, refusing to go through this again.  Allison expects his hands to roam over her body any moment, but they remain firmly at her waist.  She looks up through watery eyes, no longer able to keep the sobs at bay.

 

“What do you want?!” she screams.

 

“Wow,” he says, mouthing it dramatically.  “You really are loud, honey.  As for what I want…” he trails off and a sickening grin comes to his face.

 

She feels one of his hands slip from her waist and she fights harder.  That hand reaches into his pocket, however, and brings out something that shines in the moonlight.  Allison gasps through her tears at the sight of it.  The boy clucks in mock sympathy before lowering the blade to the hollow of her neck.

 

“Hold real still now.  Wouldn’t want to make more of a mess than we have-”

 

His words cut off with a sharp gasp as she jabs her knee into his groin as hard as she can.  Allison is finally able to escape his embrace as he doubles over and she picks up a heavy branch by her feet and swings.  Blood sprays in an arc from the end of it.  She doesn’t stick around to see if she’s killed him, simply drops the branch and runs.

 

Not a minute later she can hear him cursing loudly and further away, she can hear the girls following her path once again.

 

Allison runs until she finds her way out of the forest.  The field is in sight and she sprints towards it, thinking that maybe if she can just get to her arrows-

 

Warmth courses across her back and she hears something catch flame behind her, the smoke filling the air and making it difficult to breathe.  Only a few more feet and she sees the arch of her bow propped up against one of the targets, as if simply waiting for her.  When the cackling of the girls and the heat from their power begins to close in on her, she snatches the bow up and frantically notches an arrow.

 

She turns and looks for a person to aim at, but can’t see them in the dark forest.  The bats squeak again as they take to the air, circling above the trees and diving right for her.  Flames lick up the trees as the fire crawls across the field to reach her.

 

They laugh.

 

Allison closes her eyes and lets her arrows fly one by one, not stopping to aim, not stopping to see if she’s hit anything.  The lingering touches from Horus fuel her to fire faster, the flames from the blonde, the bites from Heket’s bats, the blade from the smiling boy in the forest; they all have her flinging her arrows wildly.

 

She idly wonders again if Josh was involved and thinks he must have been with how he was fawning over that girl.  Allison reaches for the extra quiver by her feet, eyes still closed as she notches and shoots.

 

In the distance, she thinks she hears people shouting, hears the girls screaming, but doesn’t stop to wonder if she’s hit someone.  The video and pictures in the gymnasium play on a loop behind her eyes, the words stabbing into her brain over and over again.  She thinks of how Derek reacted, wonders if she had just stayed away from him like her instincts told her to, then that wouldn’t have happened.  She hates them all - all the stupid kids at this school, all the professors who don’t do anything to stop them.

 

She hates her parents for leaving her here.

 

She hates Kate for not being the aunt she needed.

 

She hates Derek for the fear she sees in his eyes - the fear she knows he must see in her own.

 

She hates herself for not being stronger.

 

The last arrow is pulled back, but she can’t bring herself to let go. She falls to her knees, finally feeling the tears streaming down her face, finally hearing the sobs wracking her body.  Those sobs turn to screams that she can’t seem to stop.

 

A rustle a few feet away has her head snapping up and heart leaping back into her throat.  Her muscles burn as she pulls back the last arrow again, ready to shoot whoever it is.

 

Blinking, she sees Derek’s hulking form coming at her and tightens her grip on her weapon, the fear in her chest gripping her just as tightly.

 

Seeing the bow ready, Derek slows, but doesn’t stop.

 

“Get back!” she yells.

 

He stops, hands raised placatingly.  They stare at each other until the shaking in Allison’s arms have her lowering her bow - a wailing cry she’s never herself make before streaming from her mouth.  Allison’s never felt this helpless in her entire life and she’s sobbing so hard she can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t move save for the jerking motions the crying is forcing.

 

She vaguely hears Derek curse and his shuffling feet come closer.  Allison doesn’t fight it when she feels arms wrap around her and lift her from the damp ground.  She doesn’t know why, but she finds herself winding her own arms around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into his leather jacket.  He’s carrying her somewhere, but she doesn’t even care where.  He could be carrying her somewhere to get revenge for the pictures for all she knows.

 

The stench of smoke fills her nostrils and it takes her several minutes to realize it’s not the air around her, but wafting up from Derek’s jacket.  Fingers unclenching, she feels where the leather is tight and hot - burned.

 

Through her strained and blurred eyes, she makes out raised, red marks along his neck that travel down beneath his jacket.

 

Allison idly wonders what happened to him before her breath hitches horrendously and she loses consciousness.

 

* * *

 

Allison woke to the house doctor dressing her wounds.  That was hours ago.  Now, she lies listlessly on a bed in the infirmary, dazedly staring out the window that looks in.  Derek has been standing guard the entire time, gaze glaring down the halls and every now and then ticking to her through the window.  Allison doesn’t acknowledge the glances and neither does he.  She heard Dr. Deaton speaking with him at one point and trying to look at the Warrior’s wounds as well, but it only ended with Derek snapping at him.  She doesn’t know what he said, but the doctor was so shocked she could see the whites of his eyes.

 

They didn’t say anything else to each other after that.  The doctor shuffled around the infirmary, keeping busy, and Derek stood across the hall, his haunted eyes looking in on her.

 

Allison doesn’t move for hours, simply lies on her side and watches fledglings and professors’ alike walk passed the window - watches Derek glare them all down.  She doesn’t see why he cares.  Maybe he’s just doing his job and doesn’t care at all.

 

Dr. Deaton comes to her bedside and gives her that patented doctor smile that’s supposed to tell her everything’s okay.  But nothing is okay and it never has been, even before she was marked.

 

“You’re healing remarkably quickly for a fledgling.  The bites are almost completely healed, the burns are still present, but also healing.  The only scar left to be fully healed is on your chest - a knife I’m assuming?” he asks gently.  When she doesn’t answer, he continues.  “And the bruising on your face will heal in time, as well as your lip.  The swelling has reduced quite a bit.  You should feel well enough to return to your dorm by this afternoon,” he says cheerily.

 

Allison still doesn’t respond.  She hasn’t felt anything but numbness since she woke up - no fear, no anger.  It doesn’t strike her as odd.  Sometimes when her mother pushed too far during “training”, Allison would be numb afterward - the world and everyone in it would seem very far away.  The longest it’s ever lasted was a week, after both her parents tried training her.  But she hadn’t wanted to train, she’d just wanted to be normal.  Now, as she lies in this infirmary bed, she wishes she had tried harder, took her parents lessons seriously.  If she had, then maybe she would have known what to do when Horus pulled her into that closet, or when Isis’ clique attacked, or the smiling boy in the forest - any of them.  But she _didn’t_ know what to do.

 

All she could do was yell for help.

 

“Allison, will you tell me what happened?” Dr. Deaton asks quietly, pulling up a chair beside her bed.

 

She stares out the window, at her supposed warrior standing guard - remembers how he seemingly really didn’t remember whatever happened to him.  Allison wonders if it’s better to live like that - to live either in utter denial or maybe it’s amnesia from trauma.  She wishes she had that, could _do_ that.  But she can’t.  Allison remembers every graphic detail, every touch, every bite, every flame that licked at her skin, every laughing face.

 

Allison looks to the doctor.

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she whispers.  She wouldn’t even know where to start.

 

“How about tell me who was involved?  Who hit you, who made the video, who ripped your clothing?  Anything you can remember.”

 

Allison snorts and then winces when it pulls at her bruised jaw.

 

“You and I both know who it was.”

 

It had been a guess, but by the way the man’s face falls, she knows she was right.  They both know who.  There are three major cliques that rule this school and they are vicious about winning this popularity war.  Popularity - something she never concerned herself with.  She didn’t see any point in it.  After four years of high school, no one would even remember if you were popular - no one cared in the real world.  All she ever wanted was to pass by under the radar, graduate, and hopefully make a few friends along the way.

 

That was it.  She didn’t think that was too much to ask of the universe - or Nyx, for that matter.  Allison still doesn’t understand why the hell this goddess chose her.

 

“Allison, I have to ask.  I know this may be difficult, but you need to be honest with me.  With the way your clothes were torn…,” he trails off, seemingly choosing his words carefully.  “Allison, were you sexually assaulted?” he asks very quietly.

 

She expects the fear to come, the anger, the despair - the tears most of all, but nothing does.  It all remains numb.

 

“No,” is all the answer she gives him.

 

The doctor searches her face to be sure she isn’t lying before nodding.

 

“Alright.  I only have one more question and then you can rest.  When you picked up that bow, you managed to hit many students - and some adult vampyres - from a distance that would have been impossible.  You hit every mark, though not fatally.  I’m just curious how you managed that.  What were you thinking about?  Who specifically were you thinking about?” he asks.

 

Allison can still feel the weight of the bow in her hands, the way she finally felt like she had some form of control, some sort of power over what was happening to her.  As she relives it, it’s easier to answer than his previous questions.

 

“I was thinking about...how much I hated them,” she says.  Her honesty surprises her.

 

“I can understand that.  Who specifically?”

 

“Those kids.”  She glances at him briefly and says, “All of you - the professors who do nothing to stop any of it.”

 

Dr. Deaton nods again in understanding and motions for her to continue.

 

“My parents for abandoning me.  Kate for being...who she is.  Derek for...various reasons that don’t really make sense,” she says with mirthless laugh.  “Myself,” she adds in a quieter tone.

 

“Many newly marked fledglings often feel that their parents have abandoned them, but I’m sure in time they’ll learn to accept your new life.  It takes time for some people.  As for your Aunt, I know she’s your mentor, but that doesn’t mean you have to speak or seek advice only from her.  In fact, I would highly suggest keeping your distance.  As for Derek,” he says and glances out the window.  “It’s my job to ask.  That video...has he been inappro-”

 

“No.  It wasn’t like that.”

 

Deaton nods.  “I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.  I know this may sound crazy, but I think the two of you have more in common than you think.  Perhaps, if you were to get to know one another, you could be great friends.”

 

Allison raises a disbelieving brow.  The doctor smiles and huffs a laugh.

 

“Yes, I know.  He is difficult to connect with, but in your own way, so are you.  You both have that same strong spirit, however, and I firmly believe a friendship would help you both greatly.”

 

“If you say so,” she mutters.

 

Deaton chuckles quietly again before leaving her to rest.

 

She continues to lie there and passively watch out the window until a nurse comes by in the afternoon to tell her she can return to her dorm.  Her thick accent and jolly attitude has Allison smiling for the first time all day.

 

“Feelin’ better, are ya?  You know, today is Visitation Day.  You must be excited to see your folks.  It’s the biggest turn-out we’ve had all year.  Imagine that,” she says with a giggle.

 

Allison’s smile slowly falls, but she lets the woman guide her to dining hall.  It’s filled with fledglings and adult vampyres alike mingling with their human friends and families.  Though she knows not to expect them, she can’t help looking around just in case.

 

She finds a sign in table, where she sees the Red High Priestess smiling and waving her over.

 

“Looked like you were searching for someone.  Last name Argent or someone else?” she asks.

 

“Oh, yes, Argent,” she says.

 

The Priestess scans her sheet, flips to the next, and the next before looking up with a wince.

 

“They haven’t signed in yet, but Visitation doesn’t end for a few more hours.  Don’t lose hope,” she says, gripping Allison’s hand gently.

 

Allison nods in thanks before shuffling away, her cheeks burning.  She’s not sure what she was expecting.  Her mother has disowned her and her father couldn’t stand to look at her.  She didn’t have any other family she was close with and it’s not like her one friend from her old school was going to make the trip.  Not wanting to return to her dorm right away, she fills a plate with some appetizers and takes a seat at her regular round table by the stage.

 

To her surprise, only a few minutes later and the kids she sits with for all her meals come striding forward with their families and friends in tow.

 

“Hey, girl,” Larry says, winking at her.  Allison still didn’t really like him, but at least he was cordial with her on most occasions.

 

He had a long line of people trailing after him and she’s even more surprised when he introduced her to them all as a ‘friend’.  The curvy brunette he’d been chatting up a while back bounces forward as well.  She didn’t introduce Allison, which made sense.  They only had one class together and didn’t really talk.  She had her parents and a little sister with her, who hid behind her mom at all times.

 

Allison waved and the little girl giggled before hiding more behind her mom.  A rare smile comes to her face at the sight of her.

 

The equally as curvy girl that’s always following the first one around strolls over as well, another smaller family trailing behind.  She had a lot of friends with her, however, and they kept ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at everything.

 

Allison’s side is bumped when someone comes to sit with her on top of the table.  She looks over to find Steve - the bird guy.

 

“No family?” he asks nonchalantly.

 

“Uh, no,” she mutters awkwardly.

 

“Don’t sweat it.  Not everyone can deal with this.  It gets better though,” he says.

 

Allison nods and finally notices he hasn’t brought anyone over with him.  She’s about to ask, but then he’s grimacing at something across the room.

 

“Think it’s time to swoop in for Jen.  See ya later, Ally,” he says and then dashes off.

 

She gapes after him, not having expected anyone at all let alone her dining hall ‘friends’ to even acknowledge her presence.  It’s oddly nice.  She watches as Steve politely butts into a conversation between Jen and two people who must be her parents.  It looked like her father may have been yelling about something and her mother was peering around the room with open disgust.  A younger boy behind the father was making faces and mocking them both.  Allison giggled from her perch on the table.

 

A loud commotion erupts behind her and looking back she sees Tricia - the girl who was close with Patty and who still hated Allison.  She’s arguing loudly with some older boy, who simply laughs the madder she gets.  Tricia pushes him with an enraged scream before stomping off.  A younger boy glares at the other before slapping him on the shoulder and chasing after Tricia.  Allison wonders if they’re all just friends or her brothers.  They all had dark hair and blue eyes, so she’s assuming the latter.

 

When she turns back to the front, she continues to be surprised.  Josh of all people is standing a few feet away, edging closer like he’s nervous to approach.  Allison nods politely to him and he finally moves his feet.

 

“Um, hey,” he mutters,

 

“Hey,” she replies.  They descend into awkward silence, making Allison instantly wish she hadn’t bothered to come in here.

 

“About the dance-”

 

“It’s fine,” she says quickly.

 

“No, it really isn’t,” he says with a sigh.  “I just wanted you to know I had no idea.  If I had, I would have done something.  But you were my date and I should have been there.  I’m really sorry.”

 

Allison looks him over for real this time, taking in the sullen slump to his shoulders and the way he’s nervously biting his lip.  She drums up what she hopes is a reassuring smile and nods.

 

“I believe you.  Thank you for letting me know.”

 

For a moment, hope blooms on his face and she quickly looks away.  Though she believed him, she wasn’t interested in rekindling what might have been.  She just knew that every time she looked at him, she’d remember that night, and how he was too distracted by some other girl to notice what was happening.  Maybe it’s unfair of her, but it was just too soon for anything.  He must take her silence as a hint because he clears his throat and turns to the group a few feet off.  His face lights up all over again and he races to where Larry is standing with the curvy brunette.

 

“Stace!” he calls.  Allison’s brows shoot up at how happy they look to have found each other.  They embrace tightly and he bends to hug the little sister as well.

 

He then drags the whole group over to introduce them to Allison, who almost chokes on her water at all the attention.

 

“Stace, this is Ally.  Allly, this is my cousin Stacey.”

 

The brunette’s - Stacey’s - brows shoot up in apparent surprise and she quickly reaches for Allison’s forearm in greeting.

 

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Stacey says.

 

Allison stutters and the group begins to thankfully mingle amongst themselves again.  She didn’t know what to make of that.  She knew she had a reputation because of her hunter upbringing, but she has a feeling the girl meant _heard_ heard of her - as in the catastrophic dance.

 

Excusing herself, she crosses over to a quieter area.  She hesitates when she sees a familiar face, unsure of how she should approach.  In the end, she simply plops herself down on the nearest empty table, foregoing the seats.

 

“Crowded in here,” she mutters, not knowing what to say.

 

Derek nods in agreement.  His back is pressed up against the wall, but his eyes are intensely trained on the crowd.

 

She swallows harshly before deciding to just blurt out what she wants to say - like ripping off a band aid.

 

“Thank you - for helping me last night.  I hope it didn’t...what I mean is, I hope the video and you helping didn’t...cause problems,” she stutters.  She cringes after she’s said it, thinking maybe she should have just left it alone.

 

Derek sighs heavily, some of the tension draining out of him.  He glances at her briefly before looking back to the crowd.

 

“I was just doing my job.  Anything that happened that night was...not your fault, directly or indirectly.”

 

“So...something _did_ happen?” she asks.

 

“No.”

 

Allison rubs at her jaw in frustration and doesn’t know if she should push or let it go.  To her surprise - and everything has been a surprise tonight - Derek sighs sharply, cracks his neck, and glances at her briefly again.

 

“Something may have happened,” he mutters.

 

“Okay.  I’m listening.”

 

His brows pull together and he scowls.  Something dark flickers over his eyes before they go utterly blank.  Allison straightens where she sits, never having seen anyone do that before.  His expression smooths out into nothing - absolutely void of any kind of emotion.

 

She scoots forward on the table and cautiously reaches for him.  Her hand landed gently on his shoulder and yet he still jumped and backed away as if she hit him.  His face still remains blank.

 

“Derek?” she asks worriedly.

 

He looks to her and frowns - the first sign he’s feeling anything at all in the last ten minutes.

 

“Yes, fledgling?” he asks, brow raised at her outstretched hand.

 

“You...you were about to tell me what happened?”

 

“What happened?” he repeats.

 

“Yes. You said something might have happened?”

 

Derek stares at her and the slight annoyance drains right out of him, as if sucked down a drain, never to be seen again.  Allison quickly pulls her hand back out of reach, unsure of what’s happening.

 

“What happened when?  I don’t know what you’re-”

 

“No, don’t do that again.  You _just_ said something happened.  You were going to tell me.  Something happened last night.  Was it my aunt?  Was it Kate?”

 

Derek had at first recoiled from her onslaught of questions, but at her aunt’s name, that darkness returns to his eyes and he trembles.  The shaking becomes almost violent before he goes still again, staring blankly at her.

 

“What did she do?  Was it her or someone else?” she says, pushing for answers.

 

“Who are you talking about?” he asks.

 

Allison sighs and walks forward, frustrated that he’s refusing to let her help him.

 

“Tell me what happened,” she demands.

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

“Yes, it did,” she says hotly.  She doesn’t know why his denial is making her so angry, she doesn't know why she’s pushing so much.  Allison just wants him to _admit_ that something happened and that whatever it was, _was not okay_.

 

“Nothing-”

 

“Derek,” she snaps.

 

He actually winces at her tone and quickly looks away from her.  Allison grimaces and takes a step back to let him breathe and quiets her voice.

 

“I just want to help.  I know she’s doing things to you and I-”

 

“Stop.”

 

“No, whatever she’s doing-”

 

“I don’t...I-” he stutters over his words, breath coming fast.

 

“Let me help you.  Tell me what she did,” Allison says, not letting up.

 

“I don’t remember,” he says in a rush.

 

Allison rolls her eyes at the answer, fed up with his denial.  She looks back to him and frowns at his almost panicked expression.

 

“I don’t remember,” he says again.  He then frowns and takes deep breaths.  His gaze remains on the tiled floor as he says, “I don’t remember because nothing happened.”

 

Allison realizes he’s no longer talking to her, but himself.  His face spasms for a moment before going utterly blank again.

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

She fidgets nervously at the robotic tone to his voice.

 

“Derek-”

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

“But-”

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

He keeps repeating it over and over again, no matter if she tries to talk or not.  Eventually she moves forward and grips his arm gently.

 

“Okay,” she says quietly.

 

Derek glances to her, frowns, and then looks away.

 

“Nothing-”

 

“Happened.  Right,” she says with a nod.

 

He copies her nod before strolling the dining hall to continue his patrol as if none of that just happened.

 

As if _nothing happened_.

 

Because to him nothing did.

 

Allison stares after him, wondering if she really wants to take Deaton’s advice.  This ‘friendship’ seems too complicated for just her to tackle on her own.  Uncomfortable and worried, she leaves the dining hall to return to her dorm, deciding she’s had enough of ‘Visitation Day’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to give too much away in the beginning notes, but I also didn't want anyone to be unprepared.
> 
> Detailed Warning: Allison attends a school dance where she is bullied by the other students (general mocking and a humiliating videotape). The bullying leads to an attempted rape on school grounds by a male student (feel free to skip if you are not comfortable reading), which then leads to a physical (and magical) assault by a group of girls, and a physical attack involving a knife by another male student.
> 
> Side warning: There is another implied attack which is not yet detailed between Kate and Derek.
> 
> If I failed to warn for anything, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments.

**Author's Note:**

> I plan for each chapter to be a different POV (rotating between Derek, Allison, Scott, Stiles, Jackson, and Lydia).
> 
> Past Relationships:  
> Derek Hale/Jennifer Blake  
> Derek Hale/Kate Argent  
> Derek Hale/Paige Krasikeva
> 
> One-sided Relationships:  
> Derek Hale/Braeden
> 
> Additional note: those of you who have subscribed to my - author profile? - and are following BHMP, I am still working on that story as well. I figured while I write that, I might as well post a few other stories I've also begun writing.


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